Moon on Fire
by Catazar
Summary: A case of bizarre dreams turns into all around relationship altering events between everyone involved.
1. Dream Specialist

**Chapter One: Dream Specialist**

Hermione Granger

The dream persists and darkness envelops my dream self. My heart is pounding viciously as I panic. The darkness feels dangerous. I run fast, however, I'm unable to see where I'm going. I'm not entirely sure if there is even anywhere to go. Then suddenly it appears. The moon. The moon pushes all of the darkness away like a massive patronus, eliminating the danger completely in the process. I'm overwhelmed with feelings that I can't quite explain, but something is telling me that these feelings are good. I'm drawn to the moon, but it's too far away to touch. However, I can't help but notice that it's closer than it has been the other times I've had this same dream in the past. My alarm goes off, shattering the illusion of the dream. I wake up to see the sun shining through my bedroom window. The absence of the moon is a disappointment. I feel almost empty without it. I've been dreaming about the moon for three months. Always the same dream and each time I have it the moon gets closer. Sadly, the moon only grows closer at a painfully slow speed. I wish I could understand exactly what it means. Ron has been having dreams similar to mine, however they are revolved around shadows instead of the moon. Harry has as well been haunted by these dreams, revolving around a never ending forest. Even Ginny has been struggling to understand her dreams, constantly being surrounded by a vicious tornado. Ron insists that it doesn't really mean anything, but Harry knows better. I know that I can rely on Harry to understand when I have a dream that I just can't forget about. We've all been having nightmares about the war. Even though the war was four years ago, we're still haunted by it. And why shouldn't we be? But recently I've been haunted by the moon instead. We've each been haunted by some element of nature or another. I wish that there was someone that was here for me to talk to about it everytime one of these dreams woke me up at night. I moved back in with my parents after the war and after I brought their memories back. Harry moved in with the Weasleys at the newly reconstructed Burrow. Even though I don't see them as often as I would like to, I consider myself lucky that things aren't extremely awkward between us. I mean, it was a mutual decision that Ronald and I are better off as just being friends, but these types of situations are never easy.

"Hermione! Mail's here!" Mum calls to me from downstairs. I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen. Mum is making breakfast and nods over to the stack of mail on the counter. I flip through it grabbing the Daily Prophet and the two letters addressed to me. I sit down across from Dad at the dining table. I skim through the headlines, but there isn't anything of interest. I look at my two letters. One is from Harry as I suspected, but I'm more interested from the other one. I rip open the envelope and pull out the letter. The elegant cursive is the handwriting of none other than Professor McGonagall.

Dear Ms. Granger, I am sure that this will sound unsettling to you, however I need you to consider this very carefully. There has been many young men and women of your generation being plagued by constant dreams. I happen to be aware that you are one of these young women. Take comfort in the fact that you are not the only one experiencing these pestering dreams. There is a way that you can all come together and try to discover the hidden meaning behind each of them. The only problem is, you probably will not be pleased will those means of solution. Narcissa Malfoy is a dream specialist and is willing to aid each of you in your dreams. There are seven others who will be receiving this invitation. Now, according to Mrs. Malfoy the process of figuring out these dreams may be a long and difficult process depending on the dream. If you choose to accept the invitation, the seven of you will be living at Malfoy Manor with her and her family until she feels you are no longer in need of her services. She insists there is no need to contact her. Simply show up at the manor on the first of June. The Ministry and I both feel that these dreams aren't simply coincidence, Ms. Granger. Something is happening. Feel free to write me or Mrs. Malfoy for any questions or concerns prior to the date given. Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall

I examine the letter carefully. Narcissa Malfoy? This can't be possible. I couldn't possibly go back to the manor after my last experience there. But what about these dreams. I've been complaining for months that I wanted to know what they meant, and I'm being handed on opportunity for answers on a silver platter. How could I possibly say no? I open Harry's letter only to find that he is telling me that he, Ron, and Ginny all also got the letter from McGonagall and have decided to accept the invitation. She said that there were seven other people besides me who would be moving in. That means that they've all been having these dreams, too. I quickly explain the situation to my parents and run upstairs to my room. The first of June is only a week away. I don't know what to expect from this. I don't really have any details at all. What all do I need to pack? I want to be properly prepared. I start making a list of all of the things that I should pack, just in case. I have to make a separate list for all of my books. I finish making my lists and apparate to the Burrow. I steal Ginny away from everyone else and take her shopping with me. I made the frustrating realization whilst making my lists that most of my clothes are either too small or too boring. Ever since Ron and I broke up, I have been much more willing to put myself out there. I have no idea who else will be there for this mysterious project, but I think it's time for a bit of a new look. They all still probably remember me as the bushy-haired geek. Ginny and I search through the clothes racks, picking out different items to try on.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asks. "You seem a bit distracted."

"Do I?" I avoid her gaze, pretending to decide whether or not I truly like the sweater in my hand.

"Have you been having the dream again?"

"It keeps progressing. It's as if recently the moon is getting closer and closer."

"But it's just the moon. It's not like it's bad."

"It doesn't seem to be signifying something bad. But it's definitely signifying something and whatever that something is... it's getting closer. Even McGonagall said in her letter that these dreams mean something's happening." I think about what I just said for a moment. Something is getting closer. I'm nervous, but not afraid. Not that I should be afraid. I just don't like not being able to understand what any of this means. What could the moon possibly signify? I look up and spot something on the other side of the store. My breath catches in my throat. I walk over to the item to observe it closer. A small, black dress is staring back at me. On impulse, I grab it and run back to the dressing room to try it on. I pull the dress on over my head and smooth it out. The dress is very tight, but it's warm and comfortable. Asymmetrical dress in black is written on the tag. One side of the dress has a sleeve that stops at my elbow and the other side is sleeveless. The bottom of the dress stops at the middle of my thighs. It is much shorter than anything else i've ever worn before, but it's a beautiful dress. Needing a second opinion, I step out of the dressing room. Ginny's eyes seem to double in size.

"You _have_ to buy that!" she gushes excitedly. I can't control the smile that takes over my features. I have no idea what the point of a dress like this is or where I would wear it, but I fell in love with it immediately. We continue to shop, picking out lots of new clothes and talking, but all I can think about is the moon.

"So, what do you reckon Mrs. Malfoy is going to do to figure out these dreams?" I inquire, trying to think about something else.

"No idea. Either way, I'm not sure how I feel about having a Malfoy poking around in my mind. And living with the entire Malfoy family is going to be a complete joy."

"It's strange, isn't it? I mean, the entire family practically fell off the face of the earth after the war and now suddenly they are getting involved with the Ministry?"

"Well, apparently Narcissa is the best dream specialist there is and the Ministry is desperate. They're still paranoid that another war is going to break out. It's not the first time peoples' dreams have been affected by the dark arts."

"So who else do you think will be there?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out next week."

The first of June has finally arrived. I finish my dinner in a rush and run upstairs to finish packing. I stuff almost everything I own into my trunk, needing an extension charm to make it all fit. Last night in my dream, the moon had been as big and close as it could possibly be that I could actually reach out and touch it. I've been trying not to stress about the meaning behind it, but I've yet to be very successful. I just keep telling myself that I will get some answers soon enough. I pick up my trunk and take it downstairs. I say goodbye to my parents and hug them. I apparate to the address that McGonagall had put at the bottom of her letter. I walk up to the open front gate and try to surpress the memories flowing through me. I make my way up the long walkway until I finally meet the large front door. I must be desperate. I pound the large knocker against the door and wait until a small house elf answers. I notice as I step inside and watch the elf close the door that the Malfoys must have added a second doorknob so that the house elves could reach it. I study the house elf carefully, but there isn't really much to examine. The house elf is wearing clothes. Normal clothes. A small pink dress with purple flowers on it.

"I like your dress," I say to the house elf, who looks away shyly. "Did your master by it for you?"

"No, miss, Rozella bought this dress herself," the house elf answers. I process her words, realizing that Rozella is her own name.

"Your masters pay you for your service?"

"Yes, miss, of course. Master Malfoy treats Rozella and Remy very well, miss."

"Master Malfoy? You mean, Lucius?"

"No, miss. Sir Draco takes care of us."

"Ms. Granger?" a familiar voice echos throughout the large room. I look up to see Narcissa Malfoy walking toward me. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh, only a moment," I answer. "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Call me Narcissa, please. Rozella, would you please take Ms. Granger's trunk to her room?" The tiny elf nods, taking my trunk and disappearing with it. I can't help but be a little put off by the drastic change in Narcissa's behavior since the last time I had seen her. Although, Harry did say that she technically saved his life, so I'm really not going to complain about her change of heart. "Why don't you follow me into the dining room? That's where we are all going to meet once everyone else arrives."

"Am I the first one to show up?" I start following her up a large staircase. The size of this house will never stop amazing me. She nods in response to my question. When we reach the dining room, my heart slams against my chest. Lucius and Draco Malfoy is sitting at the table on the other side of the room. Lucius is sitting at the head of the table with Draco immediately to his left. Draco looks up at me, then immediately back down at the book he's reading. His father doesn't even bother to look up from the Daily Prophet. Narcissa guides me to a seat and I sit down, on the other side of the table and only four seats away from the striking blonds. The sound of the doorbell chiming causes Narcissa to flee from the room and answer the door, leaving me alone with her husband and son. I swallow hard. "Um, hi."

I see Draco's lips twitch into a smirk at my discomfort, but he doesn't look up. Lucius, however, folds his paper and sets it down on the table. I can't stand to be alone with them any longer. Lucius is simply watching me without any trace of emotion on his face. His body jerks suddenly as if he coughed or laughed silently, but he doesn't say anything. I'm sure me just saying hi to him as if we have no history whatsoever is slightly amusing to him. It seems insane to me now that I think about it. Finally, he nods to me politely then stands up to focus his attention on the drink cart behind him. Draco reaches into a bag on the floor next to him. He takes out a small box and slides it across the table with a shove. When the box stops in front of me, I notice it's a box of candy. I take a piece and push the box back to him. I hold the candy in my hand, unsure if it's some sort of prank. He seems to notice my hesitation and eases it by eating one himself. Satisfied that it was safe, I pop the candy into my mouth. Another house elf walks into the room. I assume by her light blue dress that this is Remy. I look back up at Malfoy, who is staring directly into my eyes again.

And that's when I noticed them: his eyes. His big, shimmering, grey eyes stare back at me with such intensity, my knees buckle. My heart is racing under the pressure of his deep gaze. Is he trying to read my mind or something? Why can't I look away? Merlin, look at those eyes. They are so beautiful. And it feels like he's staring right into me. Can I get pregnant from this? Oh, honestly, Hermione! Don't be absurd! Then suddenly I realize why I can't look away; why those eyes are so captivating. His eyes look like two full moons. I start to observe him in full. His hair is so bright, like the rays of moonlight that shine through my window at night. His skin is so wonderfully pale, like sand in moonlight. Moonlight. That's the only word I can think of to describe him. He is the moon personified. I feel as though he might have the answers to the questions that have been stirring inside of me ever since I started having those moon dreams. He has to. My dreams are about the moon and he seems to embody the moon. It couldn't be any more blatantly obvious, could it? Whatever those dreams mean, he must have the answers. And there's just something about him. Mystery. Danger. Seduction. Temptation. Secrets. Darkness. It's alluring because it all reminds me of those dreams. His appearance is that of the moon, which saves me. But his presence feels like that of the darkness that I'm constantly running from. Could he really have all the answers I need to clear away the heavy confusion? Surely it's some sort of sign.

"Is there a problem, Granger?" he hisses at me, his voice a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Why do you keep staring at me?"

"You're staring at me, too, Malfoy," I snap back, instinctively and unintentionally using a harsh tone which shatters any hint civility between us. There's something almost mesmerizing about his voice. It's deep and seemingly full of elemental music, like wind howling through the leaves or water running over rock. His hair, eyes, and skin all shining like moonlight. His voice dark and mysterious, but with a calming hint. His presence warm , yet slightly dangerous. If all the elements of night combine to create a human being, it would be Draco Malfoy.

"I'm not staring at you," he quickly defends himself.

"Then how do you know I'm staring at you?" I whisper back, trying to avoid the conversation being heard by his father. He seems to falter at my rejoinder and remains silent. Narcissa walks back into the room with seven others following close behind her. Ginny sits down on my left and Harry on my right with Ron next to him. A small girl with hair that resembles a red-velvet cupcake - deep red with a hint of purple - sits down in between Ron and Lucius. Pansy Parkinson rushes to sit next to Draco on the other side of the table, and Blaise Zabini saunters into the room to take the seat next to her. Another boy I barely recognize as Zane Grey sits in the seat on the other side of Blaise and Narcissa takes the seat at the other end of the table. I realize that all four beings across the table from me were in Slytherin. The only one I don't recognize is the girl with dark, red hair.

"Everyone, quiet please!" Narcissa calls over the room. The room settles into silence immediately. "First of all, I would like to thank all of you for coming. I know that this is confusing, but trust me when I say that the progress we make here will be extremely important. Now, don't worry about your jobs. Each of your bosses have been notified of the current situation. You will still be able to work, but your hours will be slightly altered to fit your schedules here. Each of you will have individual sessions with me throughout the day to discuss these dreams you've been having. Anything that you tell me is confidential unless you give me permission to discuss it with someone else. If I feel that some of your dreams are significantly connected and you both agree to it, I may need to do sessions with a few of you at once."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Malfoy?" the unidentified girl asks, raising her hand.

"Yes, sweetheart? What is your name?"

"Caterina Price, ma'am. But my friends call me Cat. I was just wondering, are you going to use anything like Legilimency on us for these sessions?"

"Legilimency is not one of my better skills. However, if you feel that it will help and you allow such magic, Ms. Price, you will have to trust my husband with the task." She gestures toward Lucius, who doesn't take his eyes away from his wife. Cat doesn't seem the slightest bit concerned of having him invade her personal thoughts. The idea terrifies me, however. "I promise you that you won't have to worry about such magic being performed without your consent. As far as I know, Draco is the only one who has mastered the art of Occlumency. As such it wouldn't be fair to you to force such powerful magic on you, especially if it may not be necessary. For the most part we will simply be discussing the dream in great detail and trying to attach each element of the dream to something else. It's a painless process, I assure you."

Lucius clears his throat, attracting everyone's attention. "Each of you will have a designated time that your session will take place at each day. If you have any questions at any point, we will be around. Now, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, you will be sharing a room. Ms. Granger and Ms. Weasley. Ms. Parkinson and Ms. Price. And Mr. Zabini and Mr. Grey. Our house elf, Remy, will show you to your rooms in a moment. My study and the basement are strictly off-limits, but other than that feel free to make yourself at home and explore."

"Cool!" Cat exclaims, looking around the room in awe.

"Now, I will let you know when each of your session times will be. There won't be any sessions scheduled on the weekends, unless you feel one is necessary. You will be able to either start work late, leave work early, or take an hour long break during the work day to return here for your session each day," Narcissa explains, passing out a small notebook to each person at the table except for herself and her husband. "I want each of you to keep a log of these dreams from now on. Make a note each time you have the dream and make a note of any changes that you see in the dream as you continue to experience it."

"Neat!" Cat says. I suddenly recognize her from her cheerful tone as a Hufflepuff that was a year below us at school. This poor Hufflepuff is way too eager, and I'm not the only one to notice by the annoyed expression of the blond sitting directly across from her.

"Price!" Malfoy snarls. "Your festive interjections are a real kick in the pants, but I'm in a bad mood and we're running a little low on time, so shut up before I shove that notebook down your throat!"

"Draco," Narcissa warns. Her son looks at her with a guilty expression, glances quickly at his father, then returns to staring at the table. "Your sessions will start tomorrow. You may head off to your rooms and unpack now."

Most everyone stands up and follows the two house elves out of the room. I sit there for a long moment, staring down at the notebook in front of me. This whole thing just feels so strange. I don't even really know what I should be thinking right now. It takes me quite a while to notice that Lucius and Narcissa are both still sitting at the table watching me. I don't even know what to say to them. Should I say anything at all? Maybe I should just get up and walk away. It's not like it could make this moment any more awkward than it already is. The last time I had been in this house I was being tortured by their sister/sister-in-law. That's not exactly the type of memory that sparks up a pleasant conversation for moments like this. And the last time I saw each of them they were scrambling frantically through the crowd during the war, shouting for their son. I can't resist the urge to look up at Lucius. We lock eyes for a long moment as I picture the man I saw during the war: a broken man in tears, desperate for nothing more than to find his son and keep him safe. Was that the same man I am looking at now? Is Lucius Malfoy a changed man? Is that even possible? The fact that he is simply staring back at me and hasn't mentioned one word of my blood status certainly hints at the answer. Equally stubborn, neither of us are going to be the first to look away. He clears his throat uncomfortably, still keeping his eyes on mine.

"It must be difficult for you to be in this house," he finally says, still holding eye contact. We couldn't deny any longer that we were both remember the same event. After all, all three Malfoys had been in the room with me while Bellatrix was having her fun. His features flinched painfully as his words left his mouth, but his gaze held strong.

"Maybe that's why I need to be here," I tell him confidently. "Sometimes confronting your past is the only way to move forward from it."

He looks suprised and impressed by my response, but doesn't say anything. Some part of me wants to make it a goal during my stay here to prove to him that muggle-borns are much more than he has always thought them to be. I stand up from the table, grabbing my notebook, and I walk up the staircase until I reach the third floor. Rozella is standing outside of one of the doors, smiling and opening it when she sees me. Assuming that she is showing me my room, I start to walk towards her. However, I'm stopped in my tracks by the sound of Pansy Parkinson's voice coming from another room. I look around, but all of the other doors in the hall are closed. I turn down the hallway behind me instead until I find a very comfortable looking sitting room. The room is decorated just as Harry had described the Slytherin common room to look like with the black leather couches, green glass lamps, and a large burning fireplace. I mentally laugh at the idea that they would recreate the room. Then my eyes lock on Pansy, pulling on Draco's sleeve.

"Come on, Draco," she pouts. "I don't want to be stuck in my room with that Hufflepuff. She's almost as loony as that Lovegood girl. And I'm sure you don't want to be stuck in here knowing there's a mudblood in the house. I still can't believe your parents are allowing that to stay here. We should go somewhere more private."

"I don't want to go anywhere right now," he mumbles, trying to ignore her.

"Come on. Do you know what happens to people who spend too much time around mudbloods like Granger?"

"Oh, do you have a chart? Because I _love_ charts." His sarcastic interest only seems to encourage her to continue. She whispers something to him that I can't hear, as if to imply that whatever my presence will do to him is too bad to even say out loud. He simply rolls his eyes at her and pushes her further toward the door. "Well, _thanks _for the input."

"Just because I let you do whatever you want, doesn't mean you can talk to me with such an attitude." She doesn't seem to realize that contradiction of what she just said. He stares at her as if she is growing a second head from her shoulder. And with the quality of the brain she has, a second head might be an improvement.

"Do you hear yourself when you speak?" He leans in as if he's about to kiss her, letting his lips linger just barely against hers. Pansy and I both seem to brace ourselves for the kiss, until he whispers, "Get out."

"W-what?" She looks shocked as he pulls away from her. Even I'm shocked. He's such a tease. Maybe if I looked like him, so indescribably beautiful, I would be a tease, too. "But Draco-"

"We're not together anymore, Pansy. I thought you understood that. I'm really just not feeling so great right now. I'd much rather be alone. Please."

She nods and quickly leaves the room, not wanting to upset him further. She pauses for a second as she sees me, but then forces her way past me. Even though his tone was never harsh, you could still here the tension. He sits down on the floor in front of the fireplace, staring deep into the flames. I quietly step further into the room toward him. I approach him with caution. Draco Malfoy is like a two-sided coin. Heads: There's the sweet, innocent, compassionate Draco. The boy who is loves his family more than anything and is willing to sacrifice everything to protect them. The boy who shares his candy with a girl he was always taught to hate. Tails: There's the cruel and vicious Malfoy. The boy everyone usually sees. Everytime I approach him it's like flipping the coin into the air and waiting for it to land. You never know which side of him you're going to get. I stand next to him, waiting for him to react, but he doesn't.

"Nice friend you've got there," I say. "Although I can't have high expectations for anyone who spends time with _you_."

"Wow, smart girls are mean," he mocks, standing up and invading my personal space. I know I shouldn't have said that. It just sort of came out. I'm so used to the usual bicker.

"So, why don't you want to go out with her tonight?"

"I'm just tired." He hesitates, looking down at the floor. "Exhausted with myself. But it's none of your business."

"Look, Malfoy, the war is over. I really think it's time that we let the ice thaw between us."

"There's no ice, Granger."

"You still refuse to call me by my first name. That's ice."

"No, that's not ice, it's just... wintery."

"Well, I'd much prefer at least a spring time feel." I watch the different emotions battle for dominance in his eyes. Before he can respond, there is a knock on the door and Harry and Ron come into the room.

"For future reference, it might not be safe to just walk in here," Draco informs them. "I live here, too, don't forget."

"Shut up!" Ron shouts. Draco ignores him.

"I mean it. You wouldn't want to walk in on me with a girl, if you know what I mean. What am I talking about? Of course you don't." He smirks. He just made a comment about how Ron has never had sex with a girl, but he probably didn't realize that Ron's ex girlfriend is standing right next to him. Kind of an uncomfortable situation.

"Shut up!" Ron's face is red now. Whether it's from anger or embarrassment, I don't know.

"Is that the only thing you know how to say!? Merlin! Find a pirate to sit on or something! Hold on, I'll go get you a cracker."

"Malfoy, did it ever occur to you that people might like you a little more if you weren't so _hostile_ all the time!?" Harry interjects before Ron can explode.

"That's _possibly_ very kind of you," Draco says. "Now either go in her room or leave."

"Can't you leave!?" Ron yells. "Don't you have some Death Eater friends to see!?"

"Ron!" Harry and I both exclaim, signaling that he may have gone too far. Draco holds the amused smirk, but his body tenses next to me. I see the emotion in his eyes as he fights not to let his expression falter for even a second.

"I'm sure none of them will talk to you after you betrayed them," Ron continues.

"Yeah, turns out they frown upon that kind of thing," Draco responds calmly, seemingly unaffected by the comment. I watch him struggle to hold his composure.

"Okay! That's enough!" I break it up, refusing to let any of the details of the war be brought up. I will not let this happen. I know Ron would have said something that he could have never come back from, if he hasn't already. "Harry, Ron, I think you should go to bed. I'm going to do the same."

"But Hermione-" Harry tries to protest.

"Please," I insist. "We all need to get settled in. I'll talk to you both tomorrow."

"First thing?"

"First thing."

"Fine. But Malfoy, can I just say something?"

Draco groans. "Ugh, if you must, but it's _really_ annoying."

"Be nice to her." And with that Harry and Ron left, leaving Draco and I to deal with the uncomfortable silence that washed over the room like a tidal wave. How do I always end up being the peace maker in these situations? I guess this is what happens when you stick a girl in the middle of a fight between a group of men. I notice Draco staring at me and turn to look at him.

"Why did you do that?" he finally breaks the silence. His voice seems to jump start my heart. I stare at him, unsure what to say. "I mean, I was fine. Everything was under control. You didn't have to do that. Why did you? Answer the question, Granger. And watch your words. You're being graded."

"I just didn't think we needed a fight on our first night here. Besides, the last thing any of us need is to bring up the war again. It's fresh enough in our minds on its own. Not to ruin the surprise, but we're going to have plently more fights like that down the line I'm sure."

He gasps in mock excitement. "You mean it gets better!?"

I roll my eyes at him. I'm too tired to even continue this conversation with him. Though, I must admit, I'm pretty surprised how the first night went. I mean, it wasn't exactly flawless, but I expected it to be much worse. As a bit of an inside joke that he won't understand, I pull a coin out of my pocket and spin it on the table next to us. He watches it as it spins, not understanding the point of it. I let the coin spin and start to walk back to my room, not bothering to wait and see how it lands. Heads or tails. Heads or tails. Heads or tails. I stop in the doorway. "Goodnight, Draco Malfoy."

"Night, Granger." I hear the coin slap on it's side on the table. He glances at it and back at me, then lets a genuine smile reach his lips. Heads. I make my way back to my room. I step into the room and close the door behind me. I change into sweatpants and a long-sleeve tshirt and climb into bed. Ginny is already sleeping soundly across the room. I look out of my window and stare at the moon. I'm still left with that particular distraction. My dreams. The moon. What does it mean? Does Malfoy really have the answers or is it all just a coincidence? Should I ask him about it? I feel strange trying to get close to him just to get my answers. Should I really be using him like that? Besides, if the reason I'm here is because his mother is going to try to help me figure out the meaning behind my dream, do I really even need to use him at all? Clearly the personification of the moon runs in his family, not just him. I try to push it out of my mind. I don't think any of my questions are going to be answered tonight. So I brace myself for yet another cryptic moon dream and allow myself to be captured by sleep.


	2. Invaded

**Chapter Two: Invaded**

Draco Malfoy

Ugh! Why the hell did seven have to come so soon!? Such a cruel world I live in where a suitable amount of sleep is too much to ask for. I pull my body up out of bed. I grab some clothes and walk out into the empty corridor. The bathroom door is open, so I take my opportunity to shower. The hot water calms my mind and relaxes my muscles. Satisfied that I've washed off all of my exhaustion, I turn the water off. My previous relaxation is suddenly terminated at the sounds coming from the corridor. I almost forgot that my home has been invaded by my former classmates. Almost. As if the fact that they are here isn't bad enough, every time I see them it's going to remind me of my own dreams. The fire. So much fire. I shake it off, trying to forget as I dry off and hang my towel back up on the hook on the wall. I turn to look in the full length mirror for a moment. Perfect as always. I pull on my pants and then a pair of black jeans. I ignore the need for a shirt altogether. This is my house, damnit. I can wear or not wear whatever the hell I want. I use my wand to dry my hair. I refuse to ever leave my hair wet, seeing as I look like a drowned rat when it is. I shake my hair around, allowing it to resume a perfectly messy look. As I finish brushing my teeth, I hear a loud knocking on the bathroom door. I open the door ever so slightly to see the mudblood standing on the other side. Oh, sodding hell. Her eyes grow wide as they scan over my naked torso. I smirk at her.

"What do you want, Granger?" I ask.

"I need the bathroom," she answers.

"Well, that's a big problem for you, isn't it?" I say smoothly.

"Malfoy, please! My session with your mother is in the morning, so if I don't finish getting ready for work before it starts then I'm going to be late to work! I'm sure that's a foreign concept to you since you've never had to work a day in your life."

Unsure how to respond, I scowl at her and relinquish the bathroom to her. It's not that I don't want to work. My father insists that I live at the manor and live my life until I inherit the manor and the family company from him, just as he did with his father. Despite the fact that Father has successfully returned the value and respect to the Malfoy name, it's not easy for a Deather Eater, former or otherwise, to get a job. People are still scared and paranoid. But Father says it's not important because he has it all taken care of. So, now I spend my days at the manor with Mum. Weasley is standing in the corridor. "What the hell are you doing, _Weasley_?"

"For your information, Malfoy, I'm waiting for Hermione so we can go to work together after her session," he growls. "We always go to work together and w-"

"I couldn't possibly care less what you do."

"Fine! I don't want to be talking to scum like you anyway! You won't ever have to hear another comment from me again!"

"Oh, don't tease me." I walk over and get right up to him. "Just stay out of my way, or I will make your whole stay here a living hell for you."

I turn away from him and go downstairs to the dining room for breakfast. My father is already sitting in his proper place at the head of the table. Blaise and Cat are eating. Blaise, of course, knew to leave the seat directly to my father's left empty for me. I've known Blaise since we were three years old and he knows the basic rules of how to live around here. That's always my seat. No matter what. I walk over to my seat, resisting the urge to hug my father, and sit down. "Good morning, Daddy."

Typically, my father would simply grunt in response without looking up from either his paper or whatever he would be proccupied with that particular morning. However, this morning he surprises me by looking up at me with what almost looks like a smile. "Good morning, Draco."

I stare at the table, not really hungry for anything this morning. I look over at Blaise who winks at me as he takes a sip from his drink. I respond with a look of genuine confusion for such a gesture. "Why are you winking at me?"

"Did things with Pansy go... _well_ last night?" Blaise hints to me with a tone as if I'm a naughty school boy who pulled a prank that was very wrong, yet mildly amusing. I notice Cat look from me to my father with wide eyes, as if she can't believe Blaise would bring up my sex life in front of my father. I hold in a chuckle at this reaction. My parents are both the coolest parents out there. My father was the first person I told when I lost my virginity. I notice his eyebrows raise slightly in reaction to Blaise's inquiry, bringing me back to the moment.

"We didn't do anything. She just-" I stop. "Wait, how do you know I saw Pansy last night?"

"Well, you seemed so upset yesterday. I thought you could use a little-"

"You sent her to me?" I stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and disgust.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. Although I wasn't sitting here watching you make _that_ face. So, what's wrong?"

"Nothing! Merlin! Just because I don't feel like shagging the most irritating female on the planet for once doesn't mean there's something wrong with me!"

"I was just asking. Don't get your wand in a knot. And she's not the most irritating female on the planet. She can't be more irritating than Granger, right?" He watches me carefully, but I don't respond. My father's smirk doesn't go unnoticed out of the corner of my eye. He knows my answer already. Apparently so does Blaise. He laughs. "Okay, I'll be spreading _that _rumour around."

"Hey guys," Zane says, sitting down next to Blaise, followed by Pansy.

"Hi, Draco," Pansy squeaks, clearly still stinging from our conversation last night that didn't end on a particularly classy note. I almost feel bad. Almost.

"Good morning, Pans," I sigh.

"What!? Pansy's here!?" Blaise exclaims, pretending not to notice her. "I can't hear her for some reason."

"Well, you're the lucky one then," I mutter, causing Blaise and Zane to burst out laughing as Pansy shouts a profanity my way. I'm filled with a sense of pride when I hear my father chuckle next to me. We lock eyes for a moment, sharing in a secret exchange that's considered the equivalent to a hug or an atta boy from most people. Pansy reaches across the other boys as if they aren't even there and touches my arm.

"Hey, Dray? Do they make cupcakes that are sugar free or at least reduced sugar?" she asks in an innocent voice. Silence fills the room for a moment as we all process whether or not that was a serious question. My father clears his throat, a gesture he usually does when he's forcing himself not to say something rude.

"Yes," I groan, hating it when she calls me Dray. I pick up a muffin from a platter nearby and set it in front of her. "Pans, _this_ is a muffin. Enjoy."

"We should get to work," Zane says, dragging Blaise and Pansy away from the table. I sit there in silence for a moment, looking across the table to stare at Cat. Her big, brown eyes stare back at me innocently. A huge smile spreads across her face. I can't resist the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"You don't have to go?" I ask her.

"I don't work," she replies. Her voice is so sweet and girly that she reminds me of a real cat or some other sort of cuddly animal. She watches me, as if she is reading my mind. The idea that she could have been reading my mind seems only more accurate when she calmly says, "Don't worry... you won't be alone all day."

"Oi, Malfoy," a familiar voice says from the doorway. Both my father and I look up in response to the name. Oh great, if it isn't The Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Fucking-Die or whatever the Prophet is calling him these days. He processes the fact that he is surrounded by more than one Malfoy in this house and corrects himself. "Sorry, um, Draco. May I have a word?"

I cringe at the sound of his voice using my first name. "Um, philosophunculist. That's the best I got. Glad we had this talk, Potter."

"Please," he persists as my father tries not to laugh beside me. Father and I exchange a glance, communicating a debate on whether or not I should go. Anyone who doesn't understand my family, which is pretty much everyone, thinks that Father and I never communicate. They would be surpised how much we can say to each other through a simple glance. I roll my eyes and stand up.

"Have a good day at work, Daddy," I say, finally giving in and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He jerks from the surprise of my action, but turns his face toward me. His face against the side of my head is communicated as him mentally hugging me back, even though his arms never lifted from the table. I know what his simple actions mean, even if nobody else does, and that's good enough for me. I follow Potter out of the dining room and into the only empty room in the house. The drawing room. The only room in the manor that we already share memories together in. I hear Potter's voice in my mind. _Why didn't you tell her? Bellatrix. You knew it was me. You didn't say anything. _Standing in the middle of the room underneath where the chandelier used to be, I watch Potter look around the room. I allow him to go through that night without any interruptions. I've seen a lot of terrible things happen in this room. I've seen a lot of people die in this very room. The reason the room is empty is because all of us refuse to step foot in here, that is until now. It was just easier to avoid the room that held so many horrid memories trapped within its walls. He walks over to the very spot he had been when I was asked to identify him and kneels down. I force myself to keep my face composed, but I walk over and kneel down in front of him, making the memory feel more real. I stare directly into his eyes. I can't even manage to bring my voice any higher than a whisper. "What's this about, Potter?"

"I don't know if I can do this," he whispers back, his mind still clearly stuck in the past.

"Do what?"

"Stay here. In this house. With... all of this." He looks around the room as if to suggest that this single room is enough to corrupt the entire manor. I remember when I said the exact same thing to my mother after the war. I couldn't stand the thought of being here. Standing where _he_ stood. Remembering what he did here. To innocent people. To my parents. To me. There's no way I'm going to admit that weakness to Harry Potter.

"Then leave," I say coldly.

"You know, most people would ask why."

"Most people would be interested. If you can't handle being here then leave."

"Are you just trying to get rid of me?"

"If I was truly trying to get rid of you I would have started this conversation with, 'Let me tell you about what really happened in this room.' I'm not saying this to get rid of you, I'm saying it because nobody is forcing you to be here. If trying to find out what the hell is happening to us with these dreams isn't important to you, then leave."

"It is important! It's just... I'm a little freaked out here. You may find this hard to believe, but I'm not exactly the strongest person, especially when it comes to nightmares."

"I find it hard to believe that you think that I find that hard to believe."

"In my dream, I'm in the middle of some forest... and I'm running from something, but I don't know what. No matter how far I run, it never stops. The forest just keeps going on and on forever. It's like no matter what I do, I'm always going to be running from something and constantly looking over my shoulder."

"Is this some sort of new torture thing? Ramble on about your problems until I go mad and start ripping my hair out? Because I got to tell you, Potter, I really like my hair."

"All I'm saying is that figuring this out _is_ important to me. It's just that for once I wish that we could just be normal."

"I don't think any of us were ever meant to have a normal life."

"No, I suppose not."

"So... a forest, huh?"

"Yeah. Ron's dream is worse. He's being haunted by shadows everywhere he goes. Ginny keeps getting caught up in tornados. Hermione is the only one whose dream isn't really a nightmare."

"Why? What does she see?"

"The moon," a soft voice answers from the entrance. Potter and I both stand up and look over at Granger. She walks further into the room in slow steps. Weasley is standing back, refusing to enter the room. She stands underneath where the chandelier used to be and looks up, tears in her eyes. "When the dream starts, I'm completely surrounded by darkness. Nothing else. And I'm scared, but almost immediately a large, full moon appears and drives all of the darkness away."

"I'd trade for that any day," I mutter.

"What do you see?"

"Fire. It's almost like I'm reliving the Room of Requirement incident, except it's just me. No other people. No objects. Just me and the flames. They surround me fully, but they never actually touch me."

"You just finish your session, Hermione?" Potter asks after a long silence.

She nods. She tears her eyes away from the ceiling and bores her amber eyes deep into my soul. "I, um, I told your mother that..."

"What?" I take a few involuntary steps toward her.

"I told your mother that I thought my dreams were about you."

My eyes widen slightly. I hadn't expected such a statement. "W-why would they be about me?"

She releases a humourless laugh. "Because you look like the moon."

I chuckle at the comparison. That's one way to tell me that I'm too pale. Standing here with Potter and Granger is starting to feel almost comfortable and I realize that we've been in this room far too long. There's something about being in this room that seems to be pulling us all together. After the longest moment of the most uncomfortable silence of my life, we all file out of the room. The three of them all leave for work, and I'm left alone. Alone? Cat. I turn and go back to the dining room. My father is gone. Cat is still sitting at the table playing some muggle game with one of the house elves. I walk over and sit next to her. I watch as she shuffles a deck of playing cards. She splits the deck in half, setting one half down in front of her and the other half down in front of Remy, face down. Cat takes the top card off of the deck and flips it over, setting it down face up on the table. Remy does the same. Cat's card has the number two on it, and Remy's card has the number six on it. Remy takes both cards and puts them in a separate pile next to her. I raise an eyebrow in confusion. They repeat the action, flipping over the top card to reveal the number. Remy - seven. Cat - the letter K. The letter K? Cat takes both cards and puts them in a separate pile next to her. I watch this go on for multiple rounds until I finally understand the concept of the game. Whoever has the higher number gets to keep both cards. Eventually Cat collects all of the cards and shuffles them again.

"Do you want to play?" she asks, her big, round eyes reaching their way deep into my heart. Unable to control my muscles once again, I smile at her. She divides the cards and sets half of them face down in front of me. "Now, in case you didn't catch on completely while watching. The one with the highest number wins. The numbers are two through ten. A J is a jack, which beats the ten, so you can think of it as an eleven. A Q is a queen, like a twelve. A K is a king, like a thirteen. And an A is an ace, which is like a fourteen and beats everything. No matter what the other person has to offer, the ace always wins. If we both put down the same number, we put two more cards face down and then a third card face up. Whoever has the highest of the last card gets to keep all eight cards on the table. Understand?"

I nod, watching her closely. We each flip over the first card. Me - ten. Cat - seven. She slides both cards over to my side. We flip the next card. Me - five. Cat - jack. Cat takes possession of both cards. I'm only half paying attention to what the cards are as I watch her. Her hair is straight, laying gently just past her shoulders, and is an intoxicating colour. It's not an obnoxious orange-red like the Weasleys. It's a deep red. It reminds me of a red velvet cupcake. I can only think to describe it as a passionate colour if there is such a thing. Obviously this isn't her natural hair colour. Her thin eyebrows are a light shade of brown. She pauses, noticing me looking at her, and giggles. Her voice reminds me of a bird singing its song early in the morning. I search my brain for an excuse to hear it again. "So, when are your sessions with my mother?"

"Just after lunch," my mother answers, walking into the room. The only reason my mother had even agreed to do this whole thing was because she realized my dream was more than just a dream. The first few weeks I was having the dream, I would wake up and run into her room. I can still feel the warmth of slithering underneath the blanket inbetween my mother and father.

"So, Draco, what element are you?" Cat asks me as my mother sits down to examine the cards.

I stare at her, bewildered. "Element?"

"I have this theory. Earlier I overheard your friends talking about their dreams. My roommate, um..."

"Pansy."

"Right, Pansy. She says her dreams are all about her constantly being covered in blood. Your friend with the long hair?"

"Zane."

"He was telling her that his dreams are of him flying through the sky without a broom or any sort of magic to help him. And the one from breakfast..."

"Blaise."

"He was telling them that his dream is always about him drowning in an ocean or something."

"So?"

"Blood. Element. Sky. Element. Water. Element. What's your element?"

"Fire."

"It won't hurt you. The fire." She says this so simply, not even looking at me. Instead she is flipping one of the playing cards around through her fingers. I mean, technically the fire hasn't touched me in my dream yet. My mother and I exchange a look.

"How do you know that?"

"My element is spirit. I see people who have passed in my dreams. They've never hurt me. Do you know who has the other elements?"

"That depends on what they are."

"Shadows. Moon. Earth. And wind."

"Harry Potter is earth."

"You're sure?"

"He said his dreams are in a forest. Seems pretty earthy to me. The ginger boy is shadows and his sister is wind."

"So the other girl must be moon. Interesting. I would have thought Harry Potter for moon considering his history."

"What does that mean?"

"The moon is supposed to represent the force of all of the different elements. You know, like the moon has a gravitational pull? The person who represents the moon is supposed to be the one who can bring all of the elements together. The dreams aren't trying to torment us, they're trying to teach us. You just have to learn how to control the dream and control your element. At first I was afraid when I was seeing all of these dead people in my dreams, but then I just decided to start talking to them. It's not scary anymore. If you're afraid that the fire is going to hurt you, tell it to back off. You have control over your dreams and your element."

We all sit in silence, making as many connections as we can for each person and their element. I wonder if this is really what's going on or if it's simply a coincidence. I stare off into space as Cat gathers up all of her playing cards. I can tell that my mother is making hundreds of mental notes to keep for later. She checks the time and leaves for her next session. I stand up and follow Cat upstairs, finding myself somehow fascinated by her. We both end up in the sitting room around the corner from where all the bedrooms are. She takes a seat on the couch closest to the roaring fireplace, motioning for me to sit down next to her. As I sit down, I can feel the heat from the fire against my skin, a feeling I've become all too familiar with. She is watching me as if she's expecting me to disappear or do a trick. She reaches over and takes my hand, pulling me toward her. Stretching out to lay down across the couch, she pulls me down on top of her. I'm not sure how I should be feeling or what I should be thinking, but my body just seems to go along with whatever she's wordlessly telling me to do. A small part of me wants to force myself away. I don't even know this girl and she seems far to sweet and innocent for me to just use her. However, another part of me is reminding myself that this was her idea.

"I want to show you something," she whispers, only mere inches away from my face. I feel her fingers slip into my hair and pull me towards her, our lips crashing together. I have no idea what she meant by that or what she wants to show me, but it doesn't seem to matter anymore. I kiss her back passionately. My body wants to focus solely on her, but my mind is distracted by strange hissing and crackling sounds. Luckily, she makes the choice for me, breaking the connection of our lips and turning my face toward the fireplace. The once dull fire is whipping around furiously. My wide eyes shift back to Cat, who smiles and nods at me.

"I-I did that?" I stutter nervously, looking back at the fireplace.

"I told you, you can control your element. I wanted to show you." Her breath is fast and heavy against my neck as I'm mesmerized by the wild flames. I look back her.

"Let's control the fire some more," I hiss roughly. I slip one hand behind her head, allowing my fingers to get tangled in her soft hair, and pull her into another kiss. I smile against her lips as I hear the flames crack again. I let my free hand reach down and slide up under her shirt, gently grazing the skin of her flat stomach. She has much easier access and I am suddenly very glad that I had chosen not to even bother putting a shirt on this morning. It's been a while since I had a beautiful woman touch me like this. Sure Pansy was always all over me, but it's not the same. Pansy was great when I was a teenager, but now I'm just sick of her. This was different. Cat is definitely different from any other girl I've ever met, besides maybe Luna Lovegood. Cat's mind works so much differently and she sees the world in such a unique way. She doesn't seem to care at all about the things that I've done in the past and I've needed that. We break the kiss and relax together on the couch. She doesn't say anything. She simply lays there and plays with my hair while I focus on my thoughts. No pressure.

My breathing begins to even out as I look around the room. A red velvet rope of hair is flowing across my chest. Cat is laying on her side with her back pressed up against my side, her face resting on my shoulder and my arm being held hostage by hers. Awkward moment with the trio aside, it's been a rather enjoyable first day. Breakfast with Dad. Spending time with Cat. Lunch with Mum. Got some reading done. Skip my session with Mum. Hook up with Cat in her room while everyone else is having dinner. Not much to complain about. I'm not quite sure what to think about my relationship with Cat. Obviously we moved extraordinarily fast. But the pace is no different to how it's been with any other girl that I've been with. However, Cat is different than any of the other girls I've been with before. She hasn't really said anything about us or hinted to me in any way that she wants to take what we've done and turn it into a serious relationship. Are we in a relationship now or was it just sex and nothing more? I don't think she's really my type for an actual relationship, but she is beautiful, sweet, and she treats me like an equal despite my past. I find myself captivated by her, but love isn't tied into that captivation. We start to hear voices that signify dinner is over. We jump out of bed, pull our clothes on, and smooth out our hair.

"I should get out of here," I say to Cat as I make my way to the door. "Trust me, neither of us want me to be here when Pansy gets back."

"Bad?"

"She might kill us both." I grasp the doorknob, then pause. "Cat? Are we in a relationship?"

"What!?"

"No! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"I was just surprised. You kind of have a reputation. I'm not expecting a relationship as anything more than friends. This is just something that happened. But you can always tell that friend of yours it's something more if you like. He seems to be quite interested in that area of your life."

"Ha, Blaise loves to have all of the details of everybody elses personal lives."

"Seems more like he enjoys pressuring you about your sex life from the conversation you had at breakfast this morning."

"Yeah, well... that's just Blaise."

"Well, next time he pressures you, you can always come see me and we can just hang out and pretend to have sex."

A genuine laugh escapes my lips at the statement, enjoying how casual and fun she is with the situation. "Goodnight, Cat."

"Goodnight, Draco." She gives me a kiss on the cheek before I step out into the hallway. Unfortunately I make my way into the hallway just as Zane is going back into his room and sees me. If there is one thing about Zane to be sure about, it's that once he knows something he tells everyone else he sees whether he knows them or not. I can hear Weasley and Weaslette fighting behind the closed door of Potter and Weasley's room. Rolling my eyes, I try to block them out. I decide to just go down the hall to the sitting room to relax. My father decorated the entire sitting room to look exactly like the Slytherin Common Room at Hogwarts for me, so it quickly became my favourite room in the entire house. I freeze in the doorway. I have always been used to having this room all to myself whenever I wanted. However, at the moment a familiar, brown, bushy-haired head is sitting on the couch with its back to me. Making sure not to make a sound, I tip toe up behind her and peer over her shoulder. A book is sitting open on her lap. I reach over and snatch the book away from her, being sure not to lose her page. She stands up and spins around, her angry eyes stabbing into me.

"Give it back, Malfoy!" she demands.

"What are you reading, Granger?" I examine the book in my hands. She walks around the couch and closes in on me. "Awh, a love story. How nice!"

"Okay, very funny. Give it back." She reaches out to retrieve her property, but I lift it over my head and just out of reach.

"Ha! 'And they both live happily ever after.' Pass! Try again, losers! Happily ever after? How often does that actually happen in reality? The best outcome this princess can hope for is that her prince marries her and ends up sleeping with her sister or best friend on the side. Then he can live happily ever after with her instead while the poor princess is stuck with the happily ever now that was hers for a little while. Sounds more realistic to me."

"Just because your idea of love is warped, don't trash the rest of us."

"You believe in this rubbish?" I scoff, tossing the book back to her. Her eyes grow sad, making her look so innocent and small.

"I want to." She takes another step or two toward me. "After all the things you've seen, don't you want to believe that things can end up alright?"

"After all the things you've seen, you should know... there's no such thing as happily ever after."

She stares at me in disbelief as I back out of the room. I suppose I have to abandon the idea of relaxing in the sitting room for the night. There's no way I would be able to relax with _her_ in the room. I walk slowly to my own bedroom, dragging my feet across the floor. I push the door open and witness my father sitting on the end of my bed. Closing the door behind me, I stumble over to him and sit down. It takes him a long moment before he finally looks at me.

"I missed you at dinner tonight," Father tells me, seeming almost uncomfortable with his own confession. "Your mother tells me you've made fast friends with the young lady from this morning."

"Cat," I force out. "She was a year younger than me in school. Hufflepuff."

"Well, she's a very beautiful girl. But I hope you won't make a habit out of missing dinner. I'm aware of your reputation with the ladies, but it would be nice if I could actually see my son after a long day."

"Sorry, Father. I won't miss it again."

"Good." We sit there in silence for a while. I can feel his eyes on me as I stare at the floor. I wonder what he's thinking about, but I don't feel comfortable asking him. He clears his throat. "So, your mother explained this whole thing with the elements to everyone at dinner."

"Oh, yeah? Do you believe in it?"

"I think that all of you are ready to believe in anything that will give some sort of explanation for what's been happening to you. I won't deny that it is a possibility and could be part of this. We can't really know for sure yet."

"Sounds like Mum is going to have a long day in all of her sessions tomorrow." I stand up and shuffle some things around to make myself look busy. I truly love my father, but being alone with him like this is always awkward. I never know what to say to him. I don't want to say something stupid in front of him. I can feel his eyes on me as I move about the room.

"Is everything alright, Draco?" Father stands up and walks over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Of course." I force myself to look into his eyes. The cold eyes, typically empty of emotion, are glazed with genuine concern. "It's just a bit odd having all of these people living here now."

"I know this must be very difficult for you. It's difficult for me as well. This house is supposed to be a sanctuary for you, then the Dark Lord took it over, and now this. I'm very sorry. We're going to figure out all of this dream nonsense and then the house will be your sanctuary once more."

"What if this place never feels safe again?"

"Draco, my son, you've had to put up with a lot over these past few years and that's my fault-"

"Dad, no, it's not-"

"It is, Draco. We can try to ignore it all we want but facts are facts. I could've done more to protect you and keep you out of that world and I didn't. You have suffered greatly and now you _need_ a place where you can feel safe. If you can't make it work here then we'll go someplace else."

I stand there in silence, completely taken aback by this statement. That was probably the most thoughtful and compassionate thing he has ever said to me. Is he seriously trying to tell me that if I don't feel comfortable here that he's willing to just pick up everything and leave for me? He was never willing to drop anything for me and now he's willing to leave behind a home that's been in the family for so many countless years? I try to speak, but I keep choking on the words.

"Just give it time, son. In the meantime, you should get some sleep." He leads me over to my bed and gestures for me to slip in underneath the sheets. Still unsure how to respond to everything he has said to me tonight, I do as instructed. He stares down at me as I make myself comfortable and pull the sheets up under my chin. An almost smile tugs at the sides of his lips before he eliminates the light in the room. Already I feel sleep persuading my eyes to close. As sleep begins to fully engulf me I can feel my father's lips against my forehead. "Goodnight my little dragon."


	3. Sessions

**Chapter Three: Sessions**

Narcissa Malfoy

"Narcissa? Cissa, wake up," my husband's smooth voice stirs me awake to start the new day.

"Lucius?" I whisper sleepily. I open my eyes to see him standing at the side of the bed pulling his cloak on. I never get bored of waking up every morning to that smooth voice, cold grey eyes, and pale blond hair flowing past his shoulders. Sometimes it surprises me that after all these years and all the bad that's happened, that we can still be so completely in love with each other. It's been difficult and there were times when I feared we weren't going to make it, yet here we are. I rush to get ready as my house elf makes the bed. Rozella is gone from the room when I'm finished getting ready. She hardly ever interacts with anyone accept Draco. Ever since the war, when we got Remy especially for Draco, he has been so sweet to them both. I follow Lucius down to the dining room for breakfast. Everyone else is already seated at the table with their food in front of them. Remy is in her usual spot, standing next to Draco's chair watching him eat his breakfast.

"Good morning, Mother," my darling son greets me as I sit down.

"Mrs. Malfoy, what happened to the painting that used to be in here?" Blaise asks, gesturing toward the wall behind Lucius.

"It's gone?" Draco examines the empty space. "What happened to it?"

"I sold it," I answer simply.

"What? But I liked that painting, Mother. And you just gave it away?"

"I didn't give it away. I sold it."

"Merlin, it's like the puppy all over again."

"Oh, no. Not the puppy story," Lucius groans.

"You had a puppy?" Pansy questions.

"Only for the longest day and half," Draco answers her before quickly moving on. "How could you just give away my puppy!?"

"Are you really that heartbroken, Draco?" I say in disbelief. "After all, you were completely terrified of that thing."

"His name was Geoffery!" he reminds me. Harry and Ron snicker quietly, but not quietly enough as to go unnoticed by my son, who glares at them. Clearly their amusement put him on the defensive. "I was _not_ terrified! I just respected his space! He was an old soul, Mother, and he quite enjoyed being alone."

"I don't see how this even compares to me selling the painting from this room." I decide to steer the topic of conversation back to the painting, trying to avoid any more tension to build between the two sides of the table.

"The painting is gone?" Lucius looks over his shoulder for confirmation. "Oh!"

"Lucius, I told both of you last week that I was selling it," I remind him.

"Did you?" His perfect, pale brow raises slightly.

"I don't remember that," Draco admits.

"We must not have been listening."

"How unlike us to not pay attention to what other people say. Brilliant the things you can learn when you actually bother to listen."

"Which you usually don't," I tell him.

"Yes, but at least that way my brain doesn't end up full of useless information. Although currently the only information in my brain is fire is hot, dogs are evil, and aces always win."

"It must be very exhausting to be you, son." I decide to put an end to any continuation of this conversation. "So, I hope everyone is ready for their session today. It was nice to simply get to know all of you yesterday, but today we have to actually get to work and start talking about these dreams."

"Yes, I'm sure Draco really needs to go over the trauma of losing his dog," Ron mutters jokingly. Harry and Zane laugh, but Hermione scowls viciously at her friend.

"Honestly, Ron, there's nothing wrong with loving an animal!" Hermione shouts. "I think it's wonderful as a matter of fact. Draco should be allowed to miss his pet. You know how upset I would be without Crookshanks."

"What the hell is a crookshanks?" Zane spats rudely.

"Crookshanks is the name of my cat!" Hermione spits back.

"I didn't know that you had a cat, Ms. Granger," I cut in quickly before the conversation becomes unpleasant. "I don't recall seeing this pet at all last night."

"I left him with my parents. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to bring him."

"Oh! Well, by all means, you should fetch the darling thing!"

"Darling?" Ron repeats. "You definitely haven't seen this thing before."

I ignore the comment and the angry look on Hermione's face and turn to my husband who is still reading his paper. "Lucius, is that alright with you?"

He looks up, looking slightly disoriented by my question. "Sorry?"

"The cat?"

"What cat?"

I sigh. "Nevermind, dear. Ms. Granger, please feel free to bring him here if you like. We can have anything you may need for him brought here immediately."

"Really!? Thank you so much, Mrs. Malfoy!"

"Of course, dear, of course. We should get to my office and start our session, it's nearly seven thirty." I say a quick goodbye to my husband before guiding Hermione out of the dining room and down to my office. She takes a seat on one of the loveseats in the middle of the room. I retrieve the file of notes made for her sessions and sit down on the loveseat across from her. Rozella appears, placing two cups of tea on the coffee table between us before disappearing again. Hermione reaches for a cup and sips from it slowly, trying to ease her nerves. I watch her for a moment before curing the silence. "That was quite kind of you to come to my son's defense just now. I'm sure it must be difficult for you to always get caught up in the rivalry between those boys."

"Oh, well, I suppose I'm used to it. Besides, Draco and I have a bit of a rivalry of our own to get caught up in."

"He can be a bit of a, uh... a handful at times."

"I'll say."

"But he has a good heart, I assure you."

She sits silently, sipping at her tea, her eyes darting back and forth rapidly as she struggles to decide if her thought is appropriate to voice. "Has he always been so... frustrating?"

I laugh warmly, not offended by the question as she assumed I would be. "This is nothing. I remember when we first got him out of the crib and into a real bed. It took Lucius and I over an hour to get him to lay down in it. Eventually he would pretend to be asleep until we went to bed. Then we kept waking up the next morning with him asleep in our bed. If we tried to tell him to go back to his own bed, he would throw a fit. He would just start kicking, punching, biting, pulling our hair; it was horrible. If he became exhausted by that he would just cry, so we finally let him sleep in our room."

"How long did that last?"

"He slept in our room with us until he was probably five."

"Five!?"

"It was the crying. We couldn't stand to see him cry." I get lost in the memories for a moment, remembering all the nights he spent crying himself to sleep in our room during the days of the war. Hermione stares at a picture of Draco as a little boy that is on the end table. Clearing my throat, I open her folder to review my notes. "So, speaking of Draco, you told me yesterday that you thought your dream might be about him. With the idea of the elements brought in, do you still believe that?"

"I know this is strange because he's your son, but yes. I don't know how to explain it. There's just this strong feeling in my gut telling me that I'm right about this. It has to be Draco."

"From the research I've done on this element connection, his appearance similarities alone are not enough. There has to be a strong emotional attachment."

"But I'm not emotionally attached to Draco. After tens years, I hardly know him."

"Are you sure?"

8:30 am

"Late again, Mr. Zabini?"

"Yes, I hope I'm not pregnant," Blaise jokes, collapsing onto the loveseat. I sigh and review the blank space where my notes on his sessions should be.

"Well, Blaise, so far we have talked about absolutely nothing."

"Say it again!"

"Pardon?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. It's a song... just a song."

"Honey, I really need you to take this seriously. You know that you can tell me. I've known you almost your whole life. Come on, tell me. What happens in your dream?"

He leans forward and buries his face in his hands. For the first time in the eighteen or so years that I've known this boy, he looks vulnerable. He starts speaking, his voice mildly muffled by his hands in front of his face. "Water. Everywhere. Keeps pulling me under."

"You're drowning?" I write down a few notes. He nods slowly. I continue to write down a few thoughts. "Why do you think you're connected to water?"

"Draco," is all he can whisper, his voice cracking slightly as if choking back tears. I raise my eyebrows, surprised that another person believes my son is their connection to their element. I try not to let that concern me as I make a note of it. I motion for him to continue. "Do you remember when Draco and I were nine years old and Draco ended up in St. Mungo's because he almost drowned?"

"Vividly. The healers all said that he wasn't going to make it. They said that they were having too much trouble getting all of the water out of his lungs. Luckily they were wrong and he woke up. He told us that he dragged you down to the river even though we told you two not to go down there. He said he jumped in even though you told him he shouldn't and the current was too strong, so you pulled him out."

"He lied."

"Excuse me?"

"He lied so that I wouldn't get in trouble. It was twelve years ago and I still can't forget what really happened."

"And what exactly happened?"

"I was the one who wanted to go play on the bridge by the river. We were playing some stupid game or whatever. It had been raining and the bridge was wet. I slipped and fell in. The current was too strong and it kept pulling me under." He finally lifts his head to reveal tears streaking his chocolate skin. "Draco jumped in after me. He was guiding me to the rocks on the edge of the river when he got pulled under. I tried to get to him but I couldn't. If there hadn't been that man walking by to hear us and run over to help, he wouldn't have been pulled out in time. He almost died because of me, then takes the blame so I wouldn't get in trouble with my mother."

I quickly finish writing down his story, then move to sit next to him. "Don't blame yourself, Blaise. It wasn't your fault. It was just an accident."

"I shouldn't have brought him down there."

"No, Blaise, no. You can't think that way. He's here and he's safe. That's all that matters."

9:30 am

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. Please, make yourself comfortable."

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry says politely, sitting down. "How are you?"

I sigh. "Long morning, but lots of progress is being made. Hopefully that progress will continue. Do you feel like talking about your dream today?"

"Um, not really... but I suppose there's no way around it." He takes a deep breath before explaining. "Technically my dream is simple. I'm running through a forest, constantly looking over my shoulder, but there is never anything or anyone behind me. Even though I can't see anything chasing me, I can't stop running and the forest never ends."

"Is there anything about the forest that is significant to you?"

He ponders my question for a long moment, searching through his memories for a significance. "No. Not the forest itself at least."

"Then what about it _is_ significant to you?"

"The running. The feeling that I always have to be looking over my shoulder. I know the war is over, but sometimes I still feel like I'm on the run, even though no one is chasing me." He looks vulnerable, but keeps eye contact with me confidently.

"There is a lot bottled up inside of you that I can see burning just beneath the surface. Start from the very beginning, wherever you feel this all started for you, and we'll see how far we get today, then continue next session."

"Alright, well, it all started when..."

10:30 am

"Come on in, Ms. Weasley. Are you ready to get started?"

"Let's do it," Ginny says confidently. She lowers herself down onto the loveseat across from me gracefully and crosses her legs. "Quill ready?"

I nod, smiling at her confidence and fire-like personality. "Start when you're ready."

"Tornadoes," she proclaims.

"Pardon?"

"I'm caught in a tornado! The tornado spins around me instead of me spinning around inside of it." She is leaning forward toward me in excitement.

"Do you identify with this somehow?"

"Well, I have six brothers-" she pauses, excitement and colour all draining from her face, "-five brothers... and I'm dating Harry Potter, so I'm used to life spinning out of control around me."

"But you don't allow yourself to spin out of control along with everything else?"

"Of course not. I have to stay focused on what I'm doing and where I'm going. Life gets out of control, if I slow down for even a second everything will fall apart."

11:30 am

I finish my session with Ginny and go to the dining room for lunch. Draco and Cat are already at the table. I walk over and give my son a kiss on the top of his head, curing all the emotional exhaustion lingering from my morning sessions. My heart bursts with joy as my beautiful little boy looks up at me with a smile spread across his face. Since no one else is here for lunch, I take my husband's usual seat.

"How were your morning sessions, Mrs. Malfoy?" Cat asks me cheerfully, taking small bites of the pasta in front of her.

"Productive, but exhausting," I answer truthfully. "I'm starting to get the feeling that these dreams and elements are not a threat as we had originally thought. We were worried that something big, something bad, was going to happen. Now that I'm listening, I don't think they are meant as a warning."

"So, you don't think anything is going to happen?" Draco searches for confirmation, hopeful that he can remain safe in a quiet and simple life.

"These dreams are not about the future. They are not warning us of what will happen. They are showing us what's already happening inside of you," I assure him. "Blaise's dream isn't telling him that he's going to drown. His dream is showing him the guilt he feels about what _really_ happened that day on the bridge."

"So, you're saying that the elements are speaking to us through our dreams to communicate the emotions we are hiding or maybe even ignorant to," Cat says in a tone of realization as she spins the pasta on her fork.

"Yes," I confirm. "We were wrong before. My job isn't to figure out what's going to happen and help you prepare for some unknown danger. My job is to figure out what's already happened and help you work through it."

"Sounds like your job title needs a change," Draco mumbles through a mouthful. Rozella sets a plate of food on the table in front of me.

"Oh," I exclaim through my first mouthful. After swallowing, I turn to my son, "Draco, I was hoping that you could sit in on a few of my sessions. There are some things you are better to help with than I am."

"Oh, um, h-how many sessions?"

"I'm not sure at the moment, but I know that Blaise is really going to need you if he's going to get through this."

"Right, well, um, sure. O-of course. Of course I'll be there."

"Thank you so much."

1:30 pm

Cat and I walk to my office together for her session. She skips across the room to sit on the loveseat. Sitting down across from her, I prepare myself to take notes. She twirls her hair around her index finger as she waits for me to get situated.

"So, Cat," I begin, "I would love to hear about your dream."

"Well," she shifts in her seat uncomfortably, continuing to play with her hair, "in my dreams I am with my parents. We're just talking about what's going on in my life."

"Tell me a little bit about your parents."

"I don't really know anything about them. They passed quite some time ago."

"Oh!" I exclaim in surprise. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. How did they die?"

"They died during the first wizarding war when I was only a few weeks old. But my aunt has been so great to me. She always kept our house full of love and books and music."

"I don't doubt that your aunt has taken care of you over these twenty years, but that cannot simply erase the desire for your parents. I believe your element is spirit, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Your dream represents your desire for your parents to be a part of your life and to share everything with them. Perhaps you should consider befriending Mr. Potter. He can definitely relate to your situation."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother to him."

"Well, I'll ask him if he would be willing to speak with you?"

"I would like that very much."

2:30 pm

"What's up, Mrs. M," Zane bellows, strutting into my office and sprawling out lazily across the loveseat.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Grey," I sigh, surpressing my annoyance. Of all of Draco's friends, this young man is the most intolerable one. His attitude is constantly dripping with disrespect and apathy. "Shall we get to it then?"

"Whatever."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and speak through gritted teeth, "Tell me about your dream then."

"No big deal. It's just me flying."

"Flying on a broom?"

"No. No broom. No machines. No magic. Just me."

"Are you afraid of heights by any chance?"

"W-what? N-no! Of course not! I'm not afraid of anything!"

I raise a skeptical brow at him and, with a slight triumphant smirk, I write down a note. "I see."

"This is bullshit! I don't need to take this! There's nothing wrong with me! These sessions are just a waste of my time! I'm going home!" He stands up and storms out of the room. I sigh, however, I'm not entirely disappointed to see him go. If he doesn't want my help, then there is nothing I can do for him.

3:30 pm

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy," Pansy greets me politely, walking in and giving me a quick hug.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Parkinson," I reply warmly. Pansy has always been so sweet to my Draco. Despite their breakup, she still treats him with the highest possible respect. She sits down next to me instead of across from me on the other loveseat like everyone else had previously done. "So, tell me about your dream, sweetheart."

"Well, it's actually quite disturbing. I'm laying down on the floor in Draco's bedroom and I'm completely covered in blood."

"Oh my!"

"It's my own blood, but there aren't any wounds on my body that I can see."

"Perhaps the wound is not meant to be on the outside of your body."

"What do you mean?"

"You said before that you were in Draco's bedroom. Are you sure that's where you were?"

"One hundred percent sure."

"Pansy, sweetheart, are you still struggling with the breakup, perhaps?"

"Is it really that obvious?"

"Honestly? Yes, dear, it is quite obvious."

"I can't help it. I'm still in love with him. We're meant to be together, Narcissa, I just know it!" She stares at the photographs of Draco that I have around the room. I sit silently, watching her. I don't have the heart to tell her that I don't believe she has a future with my son. How do I break this poor young girl's heart like that?

4:30 pm

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, please come in," I instruct Ron kindly.

He hesitates in the doorway uncomfortably before slowly making his way to the seat across from me and sitting down. He stares down at his knees, kicking lightly at the floor. "Um, thanks."

"Please, tell me about your dream."

He shifts in his seat. "I'm being followed by shadows."

"That's all? And who or what do these shadows represent to you?"

"Me."

"You? Explain that to me. Why do the shadows represent you?"

"I- well, it sounds stupid. I suppose I feel like I'm always trapped in someone else's shadow in every area of my life."

"How do you mean?"

"Harry is the hero and he's got all of the fame and the glory. I always end up fading into the background to everyone around when Harry's in the room. Ginny is the favourite to my parents because they really wanted a daughter. Hermione is the smartest person I've ever met. There's no way I can compete with her. And as much as I love her, she's not interested in me. She's only interested in Malf- sorry, Draco, just like every other girl in the bloody world!"

"Mr. Weasley, I must tell you that this competition is all in your head. You need to spend less time comparing yourself to those around you and more time doing what you're good at and what makes you happy."

5:30

"Good evening, Draco," I pull my son into a hug, kissing the top of his head. I guide him to the seat. "Have you made anyone cry today?"

"No, but I suppose I still have enough time left in the day for that," Draco responds. I sigh.

"You're so charming." I sit down and wait as he gets settled. He lays down on the loveseat with his head on my lap and his legs hanging over the arm of the seat. "Are you alright, darling?"

"I've been having one of those days where on too many occasions I've been forced to realize that I'm not very graceful." He pauses for a moment. "It hasn't been fun."

"Awh, I'm sorry, dear." I stroke his hair gently. "So, I heard that you have a little thing going with Cat these days?"

"How did you know about that?"

"I hear things."

"My, my... what big ears you have there, Grandma."

"Better to keep updated on your personal life, my dear." I smile down into his face. He rolls his eyes and looks away, trying to hide the half smile creeping upon his features.

"So, you already know all about my dream. Why do we have to do this?"

"Now, not this again. You are going to continue coming to these sessions until you can truly accept the fact that Vincent Crabbe's death was _not_ your fault!"

"How did your sessions go today, dear?" Lucius asks, climbing into bed next to me and sliding under the sheets. I move over into his arms and rest my head on his chest.

"Nine sessions and not one was very productive," I admit. "Zane just left all together and went home. Pansy is still pathetically in love with Draco and I have no idea how to handle that. Harry is the only person who might be productive in any way. I'm thinking that Hermione might have feelings for Draco, but she's in denial about it. Do you think I should say anything to him?"

"Of course not. Narcissa, you've got to let him breathe a little bit."

"You think I'm being too clingy?"

"I think you're having a hard time letting go."

"I am not! I'm just trying to make sure my only son is safe... and-and happy... and... and... I miss my baby."

"I know, honey, but Draco is not a baby anymore. He's twenty one."

"No! Don't say that! He's only five and his favourite hobby is reading books with me in front of the fireplace!"

"I know that with everything that's happened to us over the past few years, you and Draco have grown very close-"

"We've always been very close!" I bite out defensively, sitting up to look at him. He strokes my arm to calm me down and pushes me back down onto his chest.

"I know that. But with the war and all, you two have barely been apart for more than a few minutes at a time. This has to be really difficult for you. No one would blame you. I just think you need to be careful. He's trying to forget about what happened. If you hang on to him too hard it might just remind him of it all even more."

"I don't want to lose him."

"You're not going to lose him. I won't let that happen."


	4. Denial

**Chapter Four: Denial**

Hermione Granger

I'm still finding it difficult to believe that two whole weeks have gone by since we all moved in to Malfoy Manor. My emotions are constantly conflicting. These sessions have given me the relief of knowing that no danger is to come as a result of these dreams. However, Narcissa has been making it perfectly clear that her interpretation of my dream is to say that I am in denial of my feelings for her son. I know full well that I was the first to suggest that Draco is somehow related to my dream, but I never attempted to suggest I was in love with him. Even though I dread my own sessions, Harry feels that his sessions are truly helping him work through much of what has been haunting him. It means so much that he is able to work through his past. He has been through so much and there are a lot of things that he has always struggled to understand. He deserves this chance to have someone help him understand all of the questions and work through what haunts him the most. Ron and Ginny have both accepted the meaning of their dreams, but are still struggling to work through and overcome it. Ginny is open with her sessions. She told us all that Narcissa feels Ginny's dream is trying to tell her that she's moving too fast. Apparently she constantly keeps herself moving so that she doesn't have to face what's really going on in her life. Narcissa feels that it will be healthier for her to try to slow down a bit. Ron, however, doesn't want to tell us what his dream is supposed to mean. All he said was that he understands what it means and is trying to overcome it. Of course, I have no idea what progress is being made with the others and Zane Grey simply decided to leave. No one has heard from him at all since he left. I try to keep my thoughts on the sessions as Draco and I sit alone at the dining room table. Unknowingly coming to my rescue, Ginny enters the room and sits down next to me.

"Great news!" she gushes with a smile. "Crookshanks is here!"

"What!?" I squeal in excited disbelief. I shove my breakfast plate aside and turn to face her, giving her my full attention.

"He's in our room. He's got a little bed and food bowl and everything."

"Oh, I can't believe he's finally here! I've missed him so much!"

"You should see him all curled up in that little bed. He's so adorable and he-"

"Ugh!" Draco groans, abandoning his breakfast. "It is way too early in the morning for this rubbish. Your sugary attitudes are giving me diabetes. I'd love to sit and continue to go brain-dead over this very _meaningful _conversation, but I have something better to do... like stare at a blank wall for an hour... or beat my head against my desk."

"Ignore him!" Ginny spits harshly, glaring at him as he leaves the room.

"Just forget it," I sigh, following him out of the room with my eyes and observing the amused smirk on his face. "I have to get a move on anyway. I'll ask Rozella to keep an eye on Crookshanks while I'm away. I'm going to be late for my session."

"How are those going for you? You don't really talk about it much."

"Oh, you know, it's fine. Nothing to talk about really." I avoid making eye contact with her. I still haven't told anyone about Narcissa's accusation over my dream. I want to tell Harry, because I think he might be the only one who will understand, but I never seem able to get him alone. It's not a secret how Ron and Ginny feel about Draco. They wouldn't react particularly well to the idea. "Anyway, I should really get going. I don't want to be late. I'll see you tonight after work."

"Alright then. See you later, Hermione." She gives me a puzzled look as I quickly leave the room and make my way to Narcissa's office. I hate how obviously awkward I am when I'm lying or hiding something. It's not as if I particularly enjoy lying to them about my sessions. I just know that Ron and Ginny would take it badly. I knock on the office door and wait until I hear Narcissa tell me to come in. I open the door and step inside, closing the door behind me.

"Sorry if I'm late, Mrs. Malfoy," I apologize as I take the usual seat across from her. "I have only just been informed that my cat is here."

"Oh, yes," Narcissa says, "I almost forgot they were going to be bringing him today. I'll make sure he's all settled in while you're at work."

"Thank you. Thank you so much for allowing him to stay here."

"Of course, of course." She sighs as we sit in silence. She knows how reluctant I am to discuss her opinion. There's really no suitable option for me. If I tell her that I don't have feelings for Draco, then she assumes I'm in denial. And what would happen if I say she's right? "So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?"

"Well, I would much rather talk about an actual elephant."

"Hermione, the way that your dream has developed this past week is quite difficult to simply overlook." She raises her thin eyebrow into a perfect arch. She watches me, tapping the tip of her quill on the stack of notes from our past sessions that are on her lap.

"Oh, honestly, it doesn't mean anything," I lie, shifting in my seat. I have to force myself not to glance at any of the photographs of Draco that are placed around the room.

"You're a smart girl. Think logically. Do you honestly think that Draco now being in your dream is so insignificant?"

"It's probably just a coincidence. I see him everyday before I go to bed."

"So, do you also dream about Harry or Ron or Blaise or even me? You see all of us everyday before you go to bed."

"Well, n-no, but, I-" Getting frustrated, I struggle to think of a proper excuse to explain the new development in my dream. But it can't be what she thinks it is, it just can't be. I can't accept that. I mean, admittedly I'm not exactly dreading the idea of seeing him in my dream each night. I desperately wanted to say something to him at breakfast this morning, but what would I even say to him?

"Listen, Hermione, you-" her sentence is cut off by a beautiful owl flying into the room through the open window nearby. The owl drops a letter in my lap, then soars back out of the window. I open the letter from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The letter is requesting that I be there as soon as possible. I force myself not to smile at the excuse to leave my session early. This gives me more time to think of what to say to her.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. This is very important. I have to get to work immediately." I get up and rush out of the room. I'm so relieved to be avoiding this conversation. And even better, it's Friday so I won't have to deal with it all weekend. I run upstairs and change into my lime green work robes, then pull my hair up in order to keep the emblem, a wand crossed with a bone, uncovered. I grab my bag then head out of the house. Once I am past the front gate, I apparate to my destination in London. I stand outside the abandoned muggle department store, Purge and Dowse, Ltd., and look around before stepping through the gateway that is magically placed on the window. I enter the building to see the reception area busy with people coming and going. I pass the Artefact Accidents on my way to the Inquiries desk where the receptionist, Camilla, sits to greet people and give them direction on where to go. She looks up at me with a smile when I get to her.

"Good morning, Hermione!" she greets me cheerfully.

"Good morning, Camilla," I reply, handing her a Ginger Newt as I have done every morning since I started working here. "Having a good morning so far?"

"No complaints. A receptionist's job is never done. A Welcome Witch must welcome."

I laugh lightly, making my way around her to the lift. "Always."

"Have a good day, Hermione!" she calls to me as the lift closes and take me up to the fifth floor. My favourite part of the work day is delivering sweets to the other Healers that I've managed to make friends with while I've been here. When I was promoted to Trusted Healer, I officially work all of the floors instead of just one specific floor. I take a look at the sign in list of Healers. There are supposed to be two Trusted Healers for the entire hospital, two Healers on the fifth floor, and four Healers for floors one through four. However, there are only two Healers signed in to floors two through four, one Healer signed in on the first floor, no Healers on the fifth floor, and the second Trusted Healer has yet to sign in. I also notice that Neville Longbottom is signed in on the Visitors List.

"Fifth Floor: Visitor's Tearoom and Hospital Shop," the lift announces as it stops and opens. I step out onto the floor. A few visitors are sitting quietly about the room. I go into the gift shop and purchase flowers and a Cauldron Cake, then go back to the lift. When the lift stops again, it says, "Fourth Floor: Spell Damage."

"Good morning, LeAnne," I say to the Healer walking by.

"Morning, Hermione," she replies. She takes notice of the flowers in my hand and gives a sad smile. "Neville is still here if you're looking for him."

"Great, thanks. Here's your Pumpkin Pasties. And give this Chocolate Wand to Juliet for me when you see her."

"Will do." She takes the sweets from me and heads continues in the direction she had originally been walking.

"Thanks, Le!" I head down to the Janus Thickey War for long-term patients. Neville is sitting in a chair outside of Frank and Alice Longbottom's room. Almost everyday he sits outside the room for an hour or so. Unfortunately we keep all of the rooms in this ward locked, so he cannot actuallly go inside and meet with them. I hand him the Cauldron Cake and place the flowers into the slot on the wall next to the door. "How are you holding up, Neville?"

"Alright, I suppose," he answers.

I sigh. He prefers to be alone when he comes to visit his parents, so I try not to be too much of a bother to him. "I'm going to finish making my rounds. Come find me if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks, Hermione." He forces a weak smile, then looks back down at the floor. I sigh again, wishing there was something more I could do for him. Feeling slightly useless, I go back to the lift to go to the next floor down.

"Third Floor: Potions and Plant Poisoning," the lift informs me, opening up. I give Olivia her Crystallised Pineapple and Scarlett her Chocoballs. This floor doesn't seem to be particularlly busy today, so I go down again. "Second Floor: Magical Bugs and Diseases."

"Hermione,_ there _you are!" Maria, another Healer, calls to me. "This whole morning has been driving me mad!"

"Oh, now, calm down," I tell her, handing her a Sugar Quill. "Tell me what exactly is going on here."

"Lockhart has been a handful all morning up in Janus Thickey Ward. Three people were admitted with dragon pox, five with Vanishing Sickness, and one with Scrofungulus. And that's just who was admitted this morning to add to the seven patients who were already on this floor. Selena and I have been running around like lunatics because most of the other Healers didn't show up to work today."

"No one else is here?"

"Nope. First floor is the worst. MaKayla is the only one down there."

"Why hasn't anyone else shown up?"

"The aurors had to bring in one of the former Death Eaters for treatment before sending him to Azkaban. They were all too afraid to show up."

"Unbelievable. I'll go down there and take care of it. Give this Mice Pop to Selena... if she hasn't vanished along with your patients," I joke.

"Your sense of humour shows itself at the oddest times." She rolls her eyes and goes back to work. I take the lift down once more.

"First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries," the lift proclaims as I exit it. I can see Harry and an unknown auror standing outside one of the rooms. Before I can go over to them, I hear a woman shouting nearby. I go into one of the rooms to see a woman yelling at MaKayla, who is trying to tend to a patient.

"Excuse me," I interrupt. The woman turns on me viciously. "Ma'am, is there a problem here?"

"Yes, there is a _problem_!" the woman growls at me. "My daughter is in a hospital bed! That's the bloody problem!"

"MaKayla seems to be treating her, ma'am. I don't see a reason to be yelling at her."

"There's a sodding Bundimun in our home and it spit its acid on her!"

"You got her to us in plenty of time. We can treat her injuries without a problem." My annoyance toward this stranger is growing quickly.

"And you won't do _anything_ about the Bundimun!?"

"That's not our job. You need to contact the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to help you with your infestation."

"But-"

"Ma'am, please," I say firmly, my patience running thin. "We are doing what we can for your daughter, so I suggest that you go upstairs and let us do our jobs."

The woman's face turns a deep shade of red before she exits the room quickly. I exhale sharply. I try to be kind and sympathetic to all of the patients and visitors, but I hate it when they attack the Healers for simply doing their jobs. MaKayla smiles up at me weakly as she continues to aid the young girl.

"Thanks for that," MaKayla says gratefully.

"Of course. Here's your Salt Water Taffy. Now, don't let people like that intimidate you. You're doing a great job."

"Thanks, Hermione. The patient list is on the counter in the main room."

I nod to her and go out to view the list. I have learned to enjoy the fast pace atmosphere around here. It has always been a wonderful distraction to keep busy. I read over the patient list, telling me the patient's name, condition, floor, and room number.

"Oh! Hermione!" Lorelai, the only other Trusted Healer, bellows as she tumbles out of the lift. "I'm so sorry I'm late!"

"No problem at all," I assure her. "Are you ready to work? We have a lot of patients today and we're very short on Healers."

I take a quill from the counter and write down what needs to go where on the patient list as I tell her. "I need you to take some Skele-Gro Potion to Mr. Evans in Room 2-12. Blood-Replenishing Potion to Mr. Landel in Room 2-5. Deflating Draught to Ms. Jenkins in Room 3-11. Um, and-"

"I'll figure it out. Don't worry. Give me the list. Where will you be?"

"I suppose I have to tend to Mr. Jugson," I nod over toward the room where Harry is still standing.

"Death Eater, right? Thought we'd be rid of 'em all by now. What's his story anyway? Do you know him?"

"He participated in the battle of the Department of Mysteries in my fifth year at Hogwarts. He was arrested, but he broke out with all the others in the mass breakout."

"The same mass breakout that Lucius Malfoy escaped in? You're still living with him, aren't you?" She eyes me carefully, searching my face for any sort of expression of hidden emotion in my response.

"Um, y-yes, I am."

"Merlin, that must be awkward."

"He's not really around much. But when he is, he's been lovely to all of us." It was technically true. He hasn't exactly gone out of his way to be kind to us or anything, but he certainly hasn't been rude. He remains silent most of the time. Although, I'm sure it can't be easy for him to have his home invaded by all of us, especially after everything the family has been through.

"I suppose it's about time he abandoned all of that Death Eater rubbish. If not it would have only been a matter of time before all three of them were sharing a room in Janus Thickey Ward."

"Look, we should both really get to work. We're light on staff today, remember?" I don't even wait for her to respond before I walk away from her and make my way over to Harry. I can't even stomach the mental image of Draco being locked up in one of those rooms. And what did she mean when she said that it would have only been a matter of time? They didn't use the Cruciatus Curse on him! Did they!? Tears burn in my eyes at the thought. I try to shake it off. Why do I care so much anyway? It's not like I'm- no! Don't even go there, Hermione! You are not in love with him! You're just... not! He's horrible! He's arrogant! He's rude! He's... he's... you just can't! He'll only hurt me, I just know it. It's not right. It's not even worth it. Maybe Narcissa's right. Maybe I have been in denial. But maybe it's safer that way. I finally reach Harry and, feeling completely overwhelmed, collapse into his arms. He embraces me in a warm hug.

"Hermione, are you alright?" he asks, pulling back to look at my face.

"Yes," I answer immediately, but then rethink it, "No. Maybe. I don't know. Hey, aren't you missing your session?"

"Yeah, couldn't get away."

"Has anyone tended to_ him _yet?" I nod toward the closed door, assuming Jugson is being held behind it in need of medical aid.

"Not yet."

"Alright. Well, I guess I'm going in. He's kind of scaring away all of the other staff members." I open the door and step inside cautiously. Jugson is sprawled out on the hospital bed, surrounded by more aurors.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have him out of here as soon as he's fixed up."

"Tergeo," I whisper with my wand pointed, watching the dried blood clear away immediately. I gently force a Blood-Replenishing Potion into his mouth. I finally use a spell to bind and sprint his fractured leg, "Ferula."

"Thanks, Hermione."

"It's my job, Harry. Now, MaKayla will take care of his release forms and then you can transport him."

"Hold on," he holds my hand, but turns to address the other aurors. "I want you all to handle his transport to Azkaban. He will be held there until his trial later on today. I want all of you to go with him, no exceptions. We don't want to risk him getting away again. I have some important personal business to attend to here. Now get a move on."

"Harry, what are you doing?" I protest as he drags me by the hand out of the room and into the lift. "You didn't have to do that."

"Something is obviously bothering you, Hermione. That's important."

"Ground Floor: Reception and Artefact Accidents," the lift announces as it reaches the stopping point and opens. Harry guides me away from the hospital to a small muggle cafe. We receive two coffees from the waitress before breaking the silence.

"So," Harry begins, leaning back in his chair lazily. "What's going on?"

"Harry, I want to tell you," I start nervously, biting lightly on my bottom lip. "I've wanted to tell you for a while. I just didn't know how. Hell, I can barely admit it to myself."

"Just, um, take your time." He continues his laid back positioning, but his face is fixed with concern as he waits and listen attentively.

"I don't know how else to do this, so I'm just going to say it: I think I might be in love with Draco Malfoy."

His eyes widen significantly at my confession as the words spill out at a speed that makes the word nearly impossible to identify. However, it is clear that he understood every word. I slightly regret the manner in which I exposed this information, but it does feel like a weight as heavy as the moon has been lifted from my shoulders. I watch Harry closely as he leans forward over the table slightly, his hands over his mouth and fingers resting on the sides of his nose and his eyes frozen on mine. "You... Malfoy... but... how... when..."

"Narcissa has spent all of our sessions telling me that my dream means that I am in love with him and that I've been in denial about it. I've been trying to fight it, but she's right. I am in love with him. I've been in denial about it since we were third years."

"Third years!?" he repeats, allowing his hands to drop to the table with a_ thud_. "That was eight years ago! Why didn't you tell me?"

"At first I just couldn't say it. I couldn't admit it. I mean, how could I have feelings for someone like him? I've been dying to tell you all week, but I could never get you alone. I didn't want Ron to know. You know how he gets."

"He kind of suspects already, but you're right, he wouldn't handle it well at all." He sits quietly, thinking over the information. "If you were in love with Malfoy, then why did you date Ron?"

"Ron was safe. I knew he loved me. I knew he would treat me right. I knew he would always be there. There were no questions or dangers. I thought maybe I could learn to love him the way he loved me... but it just wasn't right. I wish it was Ron. You have no idea how much. But it's not."

He takes a deep breath, trying to process everything I've been saying to him. "So, if you're so sure that it's Malfoy, just date Malfoy."

"It's not that simple, Harry."

"Sure it is."

"No. N-no. He would never want to be with me. Nothing's changed."

"What are you talking about!? Everything's changed."

"I haven't. I'm still a- a mudblood. I can't change that."

"Maybe he's changed. Maybe it could work out. You can't play it safe forever. You have to be willing to put yourself out there and try or you're going to spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened. So try. Go home tonight and talk to him."

"Why are you saying all of this? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were encouraging me to have a relationship with your school rival."

"Merlin, no! Ha, but you're my best friend, Hermione. If you think this is what will make you happy then I can't very well deny you that, now can I? I have to support you."

"Thanks, Harry. I just got so overwhelmed hearing Lorelai go on about how all of the Malfoys could have ended up like Neville's parents."

"I'm surpised Draco isn't in St. Mungo's to be honest," Harry admits, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What do you mean?"

"I got up in the middle of the night last night and went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. While I was looking for the drinking glasses, I found a box labeled '_Draco Emergency_.' I couldn't resist, of course, so I opened it up. There were three bottles of Calming Draught, five bottles of Euphoria Elixir, two bottles of Dreamless Sleep Potion, five empty bottles, and some sort of muggle anxiety pills. I did a bit of research on the potions. The Calming Draught is used to calm someone after shock, trauma, or emotional outburst. I already knew that the Euphoria Elixir helps cure depression by inducing happiness. And the Dreamless Sleep Potion is pretty obvious."

"So what are you saying, Harry?"

"Think about it, Hermione. Dreamless sleep. Calming trauma. Curing depression. Anxiety pills. I think we seriously misjudged him. I don't think we ever really realized just how much all of that affected him. But it's kind of hard to ignore now. It looks like he has taken the Dreamless Sleep Potion three times this week and the other days he had to take the Calming Draught to relax him after a terrible nightmare. Those anxiety pills must be what his house elf brings him with his meal every morning and night. It must be pretty bad if the Malfoys are willing to purchase muggle products."

"That's horrible. I can't even imagine how much he's struggling if he needs so many potions and pills to help him."

"As much as I don't want to say this, I think he needs our help."

"Help? How are we supposed to help him?"

"I don't know, Hermione, but in a way I feel partly responsible for some of what he went through with Voldemort. I sort of feel obligated to help him now. Now that I know that he doesn't make you, you know, gag... maybe you can help as well."

"Of course, Harry, but it's not going to be that simple. He's not just going to let us help him. He hasn't exactly warmed up to us yet. Besides, it's not going to be easy for him to get over everything that happened... you of all people know that."

I return to Malfoy Manor and go straight up to my room to change before dinner. I hang up my work robes in the closet. Finally able to greet him, I bend down and scratch Crookshanks on the head. One of the house elves must have filled his food bowl. I head down to the dining room. Since Zane left, we have a balanced table. Lucius and Narcissa both remain at the two ends of the table, him by the wall and her by the doorway. Draco still sits to his father's right side and I move to sit in the empty seat directly across from him. He looks up at me for a moment, causing my face to turn a bit red. I eye Cat, sitting immediately to his right, curiously as she whispers something in his ear, causing him to laugh quietly. She then turns to her other side to whisper in Blaise's ear, who also laughs, giving the impression she told both boys the same thing. Pansy, sitting on Blaise's other side, scowls at the three of them for leaving her out. Ron is sitting to Narcissa's right, discussing a recent Quidditch match with her. I glance at the empty chair in between me and Ginny to my left. I lean toward her.

"Where's Harry?" I ask in a low whisper.

"Jugson's trial at the Ministry ran a bit late," she whispers back. "Should be here any moment."

I nod in response and sneak a subtle glance in Draco's direction. Luckily he doesn't seem to notice. He continues to whisper back and forth with Cat. Harry is the one who encouraged me to try to fight for Draco. I feel like I would be more confident if he was here supporting me. As if on cue, Harry walks into the room, looking tired, and sits down next to me.

"Miss me?" Harry jokes, squeezing my shoulder.

"Not really," Draco replies before I can say anything. Harry glances at him, then raises an eyebrow at me. I simply smile, unable to explain the reasoning behind my attraction for him. He's rude and obnoxious, but I can't help feeling something between us: a connection; a magnetism so strong it could possibly warp the stone walls.

"So, Hermione," Narcissa captures my attention. All other conversation suddenly ends. Every time either Lucius or Narcissa speaks, the rest of the room grows silent. "You had to leave our session only moments in. I hope everything is alright."

"Oh, yes, everything's fine," I assure her. I continue to watch Draco secretly, but he doesn't seem to be paying any attention to the conversation. "A lot of the staff wasn't at work today, so they needed me there right away."

"Not too busy I hope then."

"There's quite a few cases of dragon pox and Vanishing Sickness unfortunately." I exchange a glance with Harry, silently agreeing not to mention the Death Eater to them. "Not much else. Although, I must say, one woman was quite rude. She brought her daughter in for Bundimun acid exposure and was very upset when we told her that it wasn't our job to go to her home and get rid of the infestation for her."

Draco chokes, laughing in response to my comment. My gaze snaps to him immediately. He is staring back at me with a smug expression.

"That's not funny," I hiss at him, not entirely sure why he's laughing.

"It's pretty fucking hilarious from where I'm sitting," he says.

"Well, move then! Bundimun acid is very dangerous!"

"Then they should have been smart enough to be rid of the thing before it got large enough to need the Ministry's assistance. And what's the sodding girl doing being close enough to it to get spit on? Sounds like she deserved it to me."

"How do you sleep at night!?" I can't help but allow my jealousy for his private conversation with Cat to seep into my words and give them a spark of anger.

"On my side. Preferably my right side. I've got a bum left shoulder. Don't worry though, we're looking into it."

"You're not funny."

"I'm a little funny."

"Funny enough to get Cat's attention," Blaise cuts in. "Right, Cat?"

"What?" Pansy and I say in unison. I feel my heart drop painfully, making me feel sick to my stomach.

"What's wrong, Pans?" Blaise teases her. "Didn't know that Draco and Cat are together? Way to pay attention."

"Excuse me," I say quietly, excusing myself from the table. Everyone gives me confused glances except for Harry, who grabs my hand.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry offers.

"No, you stay. I'm just not feeling so well. I'm going to go to bed." I release Harry's hand and walk out. I pause for a moment in the doorway and look back. Everyone went back to their dinner and conversation. However, I catch Draco's glance as he watches me with a confused expression. When our eyes meet, his narrow as if he's trying to read my mind and struggling. Feeling slightly nauseated, I tear my eyes away from his and run upstairs to my bedroom. I climb into bed, not even bothering to change my clothes, and pull the blanket up over my head. Crookshanks jumps up onto the bed with me. I lift the blanket to let him underneath, then let it drop again. I stroke his fur as tears burn in my eyes. I waited too long. I was afraid and pathetically in denial. I waited too long and now he's with_ her_. This feels like the Ron-Lavender situation all over again. How could I be stupid enough to make the same mistake again!? I can't believe Draco is dating Cat. This changes everything.


	5. Nothing Changed

**Chapter Five: Nothing Changed**

Draco Malfoy

"Cat and I aren't actually dating," I explain to my parents for the fifth time since we sat down at the breakfast table. "Nothing has changed."

"Draco, have I done something in the recent past to offend you?" Father asks with a puzzled expression.

"There are so many ways I could answer that questions, Dad," I tell him. I stare down into my cereal bowl, using my spoon to stir my Pixie Puffs around the bowl. My mind is everywhere but in this room at the moment.

"I just mean that I am confused as to why you wouldn't explain the situation to us." Father freezes for a moment, staring at me. "You're not pretending to date this poor girl so she'll sleep with you, are you?"

"Oh, calm down, Lucius. Draco isn't doing anything of the sort," Mum defends me immediately. "He would have told me. We talk, right honey?"

"Constant flow of communication," I mutter. "Look, it's not like that. Cat is the one who came up with the idea that we pretend to date. We're just trying to get Pansy to back off a bit."

"Parkinson is still trying to get you back?" Father's voice is filled with amusement. His reaction to my relationships often includes amusement. It must be interesting for him to hear about this stuff. He has been with my mother ever since he was a fifth year at Hogwarts. I have always envied their marriage, even though I would never admit that to anyone. I've envied it more so ever since the war. It's strange for me to catch myself sitting around wishing I was married with a love as strong as my parents'. It is a nice thought though. I wish that I had someone who would pick up the slack. Someone who would be there to help keep me going when everything is too overwhelming. Someone to be in bed with me to comfort me when I have nightmares. Someone I can discuss books and authors with. Someone who understands what I've been through and how I'm feeling. I just wish I wasn't alone and I had someone who made life seem easier. I don't know. Maybe that's stupid. Maybe that makes me weak or something. But the feelings are still there.

"Just be careful not to risk your friendship with Cat," Mum warns me. "We all know that your relationships end badly."

"What!?" I exclaim. "Not all of them! When have my relationships ended badly!?"

"Several times."

"I'll take one."

"Olivia?" she suggests, pointing her fork at me.

"That was not a relationship. Besides, her sister shouldn't have gotten in the way."

"Pansy?"

"She deserved that! Though, it hasn't seemed to have changed her opinion of me any since I have to go through all this rubbish of pretending to be dating someone just to get her to stop sneaking into my room at night!" I drop my spoon and watch it slip underneath the milk and disappear. My father chokes in response to my last comment. My mother, however, ignores it completely and continues.

"Astoria?" She practically whispers the name, but it sounds louder than an explosion in my mind. My heart stings painfully in response. For a single second, I almost feel betrayed by my mother for even bringing up Astoria.

"That wasn't my fault! _She_ cheated on_ me_! Cat will be fine!" Officially annoyed with the conversation, I leave my bowl of Pixie Puffs abandoned on the table and escape the dining room. My mother runs after me, catching me in the entryway. She grabs my shoulder and turns me around to face her. Any resentment I felt for her mere seconds ago is gone as I look at her face, smile spread across it.

"Turn around and close your eyes," Mother instructs me.

"Why?"

"Nine months of pregnancy and five hours of labor, little boy, that's why." She makes a turning motion with her index finger. Rolling my eyes, I turn my back on her. After a moment I feel her arms around me and her chin rested firmly on my right shoulder. "Open."

I stare at the card held in front of my face. "What is this?"

"One of the invitations, of course."

"Invitations to..."

"I know your birthday was on the fifth and it's already about ten days late. We didn't properly celebrate because everyone was settling in. But I didn't forget."

I observe the invitation. The white paper is lined with black, velvet dragons. The elegant writing informs the reader that my birthday party will be held here on Sunday, June 16th. "Mum, this party is tomorrow!"

"I know. I wanted it to be a bit of a surprise, so I waited until today to tell you. Everyone else has already confirmed that they will be attending."

"Mum, look, I-" I begin to protest, but Cat bounces cheerfully down the stairs toward us and my argument is lost.

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy!" Cat says happily. "Draco, everyone else is ready to go."

"Go?" Mother repeats. "Where are you going?"

"Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and I are going over to the Zabini house," Cat answers. Blaise forgot to pack a few of his books that he really wants, so we have to go over and look for them. He thinks it will be helpful if Cat and Pansy have time alone to talk so Cat can convince Pansy that we are actually dating. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but now I'm indifferent to the entire situation.

"Oh! Well, have fun. And don't get into any pretend trouble while in your pretend relationship." Mum smiles, then walks back to the dining room.

"I think your mum is completely fascinating," Cat says, staring after her.

"Funny... so does she," I laugh, although I find myself fascinated by her occasionally as well. She's one of the strongest people I know. I'm still awestruck by the way she has handled everything that's happened over the years. We wait for Blaise and Pansy to get downstairs, then head out to the Zabini residence. All the while, my mind is not focused on what is going on around me. My mind is trapped in the memory of dinner last night. It was just so strange. Such a strange reaction. We arrive at our destination, but the house is dark and quiet.

"Where is your mother?" I ask Blaise, looking through the dark, empty rooms and hallways. The house doesn't look as though it's been touched in quite some time.

"Um, at work," Blaise answers as though he wasn't sure.

"I thought she was on vacation," Pansy questions.

"I don't know!" Blaise snaps. "Maybe she's upstairs! Merlin, why are you all attacking me!?"

"Sensitive today?" I place a hand on his shoulder. "Blaise, what is it?"

"Nothing. I just don't know where she is. I never know where she is. Doesn't care 'bout me enough to tell me where she goes." He stops, allowing silence to fall upon the room. He usually doesn't let it get to him, but he often feels alone in the world when he's not at my house. When Blaise was younger, his mother was busy going from one man to another, getting married and then collecting the money when the husband mysteriously died. Blaise doesn't even know who is real father is. Now that she has given up on her long string of men, she just never shows up anymore. We can go months without hearing from her. He tries not to let it show, but I know that it hurts him that she abandons him like this. Even though he resents her, he still wishes that she was around to care. "Just help me find my books. They should be around here somewhere."

"Pansy, Cat, why don't you two look over there," I suggest, desperate to get as far away from Pansy as possible. "Blaise and I will go that way."

Cat and Pansy disappear in the direction they were instructed. Blaise is saying something about how our plan is working. I ignore him, my thoughts still on dinner. I rummage through the items in the room, looking for anything that may look like a book. Sure the plan seems to be working. Pansy hasn't tried to hit on me so far this morning, which is a good sign. But I'm not so sure now if I know what I'm doing. When I saw that look on-

"Draco!" Blaise interrupts my thoughts. "Are you listening to me at all?"

"No."

"Well, thanks," he mumbles in a dull tone. "What's wrong with you, mate?"

"Granger reacted in a... peculiar way last night when you said that Cat and I were dating."

"I disagree."

"You usually do." I kick over a box nearby, sending dust flying up into the air around me. I know what I saw. That look on her face meant something. And I don't believe for a second that she suddenly felt sick out of nowhere as soon as she heard. I know I'm right. I just don't know what it means.

"Why do you think she would react to that?"

"I don't know. She just... started acting differently as soon as you said it. I don't know why, but I know it's because of what you said."

"Well, there's a rock solid foundation. We'll go from there." The sarcasm in his words is echoed on his dark features.

"When I find your books, remind me to hit you with them really hard."

"As you wish, my love," he mocks me before turning around to continue his search.

I roll my eyes and continue to search the room as well. My attention is directed to the cracking glass beneath my feet. I kneel down to pick up the broken picture frame I had just stepped on. Through the cracked glass, a photograph of me and Blaise when we were five years old smiles up at me. I stare at the photograph, then look over my shoulder at my best friend. I wonder if sometimes I take him for granted. Blaise is the only person I've ever been my complete self around. He never judges the choices I make. He was the only one who was indifferent during the war, never pressuring me to pick one side or the other. Even though I have changed a lot since the war, he hasn't looked at me any differently. We always mess with each other and bicker back and forth, but that's how we've always been. I know that he is going to be here supporting me no matter what I decide to do. It sounds so pathetically cliche, but I suppose all types of relationships have a few cliche aspects to them.

"What are you staring at?" Blaise notices me watching him, giving me a curious look. I watch his curious expression change to concern and back again.

"I found them!" Pansy calls to us from the other room before I can say anything. The girls both walk into the room. Pansy holds the books up in the air. She looks around the room with a disgusted expression. "Here. I've got them. Can we go now? This place creeps me out."

The girls both turn to leave. Blaise puts his arm around my shoulders as we head to the front door. The four of us apparate back to the manor. I go straight upstairs to the sitting room. I notice Potter sitting on the couch with his back to me. I sneak up behind him and grab his shoulder. He jumps up off the couch, the book he had been reading about Quidditch falling to the floor, and spins around to face me. His piercing green eyes are wide with shock.

"You know we should play a little amateur game of Quidditch sometime," I suggest, looking down at the book on the floor. "I'd love to kick your ass at least once more."

"Merlin, Malfoy, you scared me half to death!" Potter shouts, ignoring my suggestion. His facial expression and tone of voice are solely shock and no anger.

"Half to death, huh? Well, follow through was always a problem for me. Oh, well. I'll try harder next time," I joke. I move to sit down on the couch. Potter picks up his book and sits down next to me. I lean back lazily, staring into the fireplace. I can feel Potter's eyes on me, but I refuse to look over at him. I finally process that for the first time since he moved in here, he is alone. "So, where's Weasley and Granger?"

"Well, Ron found his Chocolate Frog cards, so he's sorting them."

"I can't believe he found where I hid those," I mutter quietly to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing. So, he's sorting. What about Granger?" I finally decide to look over at him, just in time to see his body tense slightly at my question. I make sure to watch him closely. He refuses to look in my direction and he is noticably uncomfortable.

"She hasn't gotten out of bed still. She's, um, still not feeling well. Ginny is in there watching over her."

My jaw clenches at his words. She's still in bed? Maybe she really is ill. I must have jumped to conclusions. How typically self-centered of me. Just because she felt poorly after Blaise said Cat and I are dating, doesn't mean it was a reaction to it. I'm such an idiot for assuming that it was about me. I'm such an idiot for thinking, even for a moment, that she would care. I clear my throat and try to come up with an excuse to leave the room.

"Malfoy, can I ask you something kind of personal?" Potter distracts from the idea of leaving.

"You can ask. I might not answer."

"I found the potions in the kitchen that you use to _'aid emotional trauma.' _I just... I didn't know that you were struggling so much."

"That's not a question." I try to keep my voice steady, even though I feel completely exposed by his discovery. I lock eyes with him, noting the genuine concern hidden in his. I'm starting to become more aware of the strange tradition that has somehow developed between us. We always ignore or bully each other when other people are around. However, when we are alone we end up having some sort of ridiculous heart to heart type conversation.

"I guess I just can't help but wonder how you handle it every single day. Doesn't it ever feel like too much?"

"It's really hard to get up every day and keep moving forward. Sometimes I wish that I could just stay in bed for the rest of my life. But it's a miracle that I'm even alive today. I'm not going to take that for granted and waste the life I have left by being miserable over what _could have _killed me."

We sit there in silence while he processes my answer to his question. He seems to be sincerely taking my response to heart. I can hear the chatter of other people in the hall as they come upstairs. I can hear Cat and Pansy talking as they come closer to the room. I debate whether or not I should stay where I am. Cat pokes her head into the room and makes a comment about how she got a great dress for my party tomorrow. After I hear both of girls' voices fade away as they go to their room, Potter turns back to me.

"What party?" Potter asks.

"Oh, my mother is insisting to throw me a belated birthday party tomorrow. I'm still trying to get out of it."

"I didn't know. They didn't tell me about it."

I laugh. "Of course they didn't tell you about the party. They're inconsiderate and self-centered. That's just how they are, it's nothing personal. You don't _have_ to go."

"Why are you dreading this party so much?" He looks at me seriously. I keep in mind that he didn't grow up with years of draining birthday parties. I'm sure that the idea of having a huge, expensive party must sound nice to someone who doesn't know what these parties are actually like. Rich people throw much different parties than a typical birthday party. The decorations and such are always way over the top. The majority of the guest list is my friends' parents and my father's coworkers. I have to dance at least once with my mother, which is the only part I ever enjoyed, and I have to dance at least once with my date. It's very formal and draining. Potter continues talking, "It should be fun. You get to celebrate your twenty two years of life. You get cake. Cake is always good. Show off your new girlfriend. There's dancing and go-"

"Wait, what? Show off my new girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Cat. You're dating Cat. You didn't forget already, did you?"

"Oh! No." A small burst of laughter escapes in reaction. "We're not _actually_ dating."

"What!?" His eyes grow so wide that his glasses are probably the only thing holding his eyes in his head. I raise an eyebrow at him in confusion. Now, I may have jumped to conclusions with Granger, but it's pretty obvious that he is reacting. Why would he be so shocked? Why does everybody suddenly care about the details of my personal life?

"Cat suggested that we pretend to date so that Pansy won't be all over me. It's no big deal. We're just trying to keep Pans off my back."

Potter continues to stare at me as if I've grown a third eye, his eyes still abnormally wide and his mouth slightly open. "I- I have to go. I'll, uh, see you at dinner."

I drag my body down the stairs toward the dining room for dinner. For the first time, I'm the last one to arrive and join everyone else at the table. I take my seat between my father and Cat. Sitting across from me, Granger doesn't look sick at all. In fact, she looks a bit too nice to be having a simple dinner. Remy sets a plate on the table in front of me. I grab a roll from a nearby platter and hand it to her. She bows low to me before backing out of the room. My father raises a pale brow at me, but there is evidence of a smile in his eyes.

"Where's Pansy?" Cat asks suddenly next to me.

"Pans isn't here?" I look down the table to see her unoccupied seat.

"Honestly, Draco, didn't you notice?" Mum scoffs.

"Now that you mention it, it does seem like there's a little more air in here."

"She left," Mum explains, ignoring my comment and Blaise's low chuckle that quickly followed. "She came to me an hour ago, saying it was time for her to go home. I'm surprised she didn't even say goodbye to any of you. It's a shame really. However, Draco, at least you and Cat don't have to pretend to date anymore."

I sneak a glance at Granger, hoping she won't notice, but she is already looking at me. Our eyes lock and widen, then quickly look away again. The only person to notice this interaction is Potter, who doesn't look at all surprised by it. I really hate this overwhelming idea that I'm seriously missing something. I narrow my eyes at Potter and Granger as they exchange a glance of their own. What the hell is going on here!?

"Well, it might be nice to keep it going for one more day," I finally say, watching Granger's reaction closely. Her eyes widen and snap back to me. I can't possibly be just jumping to conclusions this time. This means something. Is she jealous? That sounds completely mental.

"Why do you want to do that, dear?" Mum inquires, finally noticing the intense gaze being held between me and Granger. Surely everyone has noticed by now. I don't care. I keep staring into her eyes as her face turns red.

"I'm going to need a date to this pointless sodding party tomorrow. I might as well go with Cat." I lean forward toward Granger slightly, keeping eye contact, and add, "Unless there's someone else that wants to go with me."

I notice her jaw tighten. She breaks eye contact and stares down at her untouched food. The whole room is silent, processing what just happened. I know that she would never ask me out, but I refuse to break first. If she wants to play games with me, then I'll just have to make sure that I win. Honestly, I had never thought about Granger in a dating way before. I never thought I had any feelings for her. But knowing how jealous she is of Cat is strangely satisfying. I decide to ignore it for now and continue the conversation with my mother.

"You know, Mother," I begin, "you could eliminate the need for a date all together if you just cancel this ridiculous party. I spent my birthday with you and Dad. That was perfect. I don't need a party."

"That wasn't enough celebration!" she protests, her sad eyes wide. "You need the best. You need the food and the music and the decora-"

"Mum, you've given me everything I need," I tell her warmly, causing tears to well up in her eyes. It's true. She gave me life, then she protected it. She's been my best friend ever since the day I was born. She has always given me everything I need and more. I don't think that either of my parents understand how far it goes with me to just be here.

"I think the party is a great idea," Potter announces to the room. My mother smiles at him, glad to have some support.

"I agree with Potter," Blaise says, betraying me.

"Judas," I hiss at him fiercely. He simply winks at me in response.

"See!" Mum exclaims excitedly. I open my mouth to argue, but decide against it. If this party is really this important to her, I suppose it won't kill me to go through with it. My father doesn't seem to have any opinion on the matter as he continues to sit and eat in silence. He often gets entertainment out of simply observing other people's conversations and interactions. He's extraordinarily talented at understanding what people mean to say that is hidden underneath what they are actually saying by simply observing their facial expressions, body language, and tone of voice. Mum continues throughout the silence. "It won't be so bad. All you have to do is show up. It won't be as extravagant as you're expecting."

"I'm sure it will be great, Mum," I assure her. Despite the fact that I'm kind of dreading this party, I like seeing my mother happy. She really enjoys planning parties like this. I shovel the last few bites of my dinner into my impatient mouth before excusing myself to my bedroom. I strip my shirt off and change into my grey sweatpants. Within minutes, a knock on my door keeps me away from the comfort of my bed. I pull my door open. A red blur flies past me into the room. I close the door and walk back to my bed to sit next to Cat. I lay down with my head in her lap. She plays with my hair while waiting for me to say what's on my mind. When I don't say anything, she decides to start.

"So, what was going on between you and Hermione down there?" Cat asks me.

"She wants to go with me to this party. I know she does. She just is too afraid to say anything."

"Why does she have to be the one to ask you?" She pushes her fingers slowly through my hair. I ponder her question. Is it even an option for me to ask her? Why should I be the one to ask? She's the one who got all jealous. She's the one who spent an entire day in bed because she thought I was with someone else. She's the one who has feelings for me. I'm still not sure how I feel. Sure it was satisfying to see her so jealous, but does that mean I like her?

"It's complicated. Our past... it just makes things more difficult. Besides, I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about her. At least _she_ already knows what she wants. I don't, so I don't see why I should be the one to make the first move. If she wants me, she can ask for me. It's that simple." We pause when we hear a noise from out in the hall. I look over at my door, but nothing happens and not another sound is made.

"So, you're not sure if you like her or not?"

"I've never really thought about it before."

"She's pretty."

"She's beautiful." I stare up at the ceiling, trying to picture her in my mind. Her long, brown hair frames her face wonderfully, having been tamed significantly since our school years. Her big, brown eyes always seem to be filled with nothing less than strong determination. My memory lingers on the soft shape of her full lips. Her pale skin is the perfect, creamy-coloured covering on her thin but curvy figure. "But beauty isn't enough to make a relationship work."

"Don't you know anything about her?"

"Not really. She doesn't pick her head up out of her books long enough for anyone to get to know her anyway."

"Didn't you tell me before that you wanted to be with someone that you could discuss literature with? Sounds to me like she's the type for that."

"It's just not that simple, Cat. Our history is pretty bad. I was awful to her for a long time. I regret that now, I do, but that's not going to erase everything that happened. That's why I can't make the first move, alright? I don't have the balls to make myself that vulnerable to her after the way I treated her."

There's a slight _thud_ from out in the hall as if someone hit my door. I get up and go to the door, unsure if I hear footsteps on the other side. I pull the door open and hear another door close as I step out into the empty hallway. I have no way of knowing which door I heard close. I turn around and go back into my room, closing the door again behind me. Cat is still sitting on my bed, staring back at me with wide eyes and her forehead wrinkled with confusion. I stand there silently staring at her for a moment before stating the obvious.

"Someone was listening to us."


	6. Draco's Party Part 1

**Chapter Six: Draco's Party Part 1**

Hermione Granger

My dreaming self walks around an unfamiliar room. As I pass by a mirror, I'm taken aback by my own appearance. My hair is flowing beautifully around my face in soft curls. I look down at myself to examine what I am wearing. I'm surprisingly pleased to see a sleeveless, floor-length, velvet dress; emerald green with tied laces along the upper section of both the front and the back. The dress is so tight at the top that I feel breathless and my breasts are being pushed up, but the dress flows out perfectly at the bottom. I decide to focus on the unfamiliar room again. Clearly I'm dreaming, so this room could simply be apocryphal, but I can't help but feel like it's real and I must find out where I am. The desolate room has beautiful stone walls and a large stone fireplace already lit. The flames send shivering waves of heat out into the room, calming the cold atmosphere. The big, black leather sofas are placed facing each other in front of the fireplace. The green tinted lamps placed around the room snap a mental puzzle piece into place. I walk over to the window and find myself looking out_ into _the Black Lake. The dark waters are filled with magical creatures, beautiful and terrifying, swimming freely. A grindylow passes quickly by just in front of the window. A few merpeople are barely visible in the distance. The knot in my stomach tightens violently as I finally realize that I'm in the Slytherin Common Room at Hogwarts. A discernible scent fills my senses, alerting me to his presence behind me immediately. He places his hands on my hips and pulls me back against him, moving his body and hands dexterously against me as his lips meet my ear.

"Turn around," Draco Malfoy hisses in my ear, his voice deep and seductive, chilling me to the core. I feel his voice deep inside of me. I forcibly turn around in his grip to face him as instructed. The full moons of his eyes stop my heart as I look up into them. His white-blond hair is tossled, giving him a sexy messy look. A smirk appears on his lips as he observes my dress, seemingly pleased with what he is seeing. I take this moment to examine his own tightly-fit, black suit and black dress shirt that I'm already used to seeing him wear in real life. I look back into his eyes, which are watching me carefully and glossed with amusement.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I whisper. "Kiss me, you bloody git."

Without a second of hesitation, he presses his lips to mine. The moan his kiss elicited from me surprises me. He seems equally intrigued by my reaction, growling hungrily against my mouth. He backs me up against the wall. Grabbing my hands, he lifts them up over my head and pins them against the wall. He fights against my struggles easily, holding both my hands against the wall with only one of his hands. He bites and licks savagely at my neck. I try to hide my irrepressible arousal, but that only makes it even more obvious. His free hand begins to claw at the lace on the front of my dress. I desperately want to break my hands free and start tearing at his clothes, but his grip remains firm. His kiss, his scent, my limited mobility, the heat radiating from his body, and the pounding of my heart are so invigorating. I get so caught up in the kiss that I don't even notice when the front of my dress is unlaced and falls open until a cold breeze brushes against my chest. His free hand slides against the skin of my chest across my collarbone, stopping over my heart. I know that he can feel my heart pounding violently against his hand. As he begins trailing kisses down my neck to my chest, I force myself to keep my eyes closed and not look at him. Without even a modicum of effort, he picks me up and carries me to the closest leather couch in front of the fireplace and lays me down. He stands next to the couch, bending forward over me closely. My hands finally free, I frantically start tearing away at his clothes, pulling off the jacket of his suit and ripping the dress shirt open. He pulls his arms out of the sleeves and lets the shirt and jacket fall to the floor next to us. The deep lust in his eyes drives me mad. My eyes examine him and I lose my breath once again. He laughs; a deep, sensual laugh.

"Like what you see, Granger?" He stands there, allowing me to stare at him. I simply nod in reply, unable to find my voice. His strong arms burn a desire in me to be held by them. His chest and abs are perfectly sculpted. I stretch my hand out to him. He smirks, taking a step forward so that I can reach him. I slide my hands along his skin and muscle; hard as a rock, tight, and warm with life. Desire overwhelms me painfully. I pull him down on top of me, desperate to have him. I immediately start biting and sucking on his neck, savoring the taste of his delicious skin. He snarls something crude in my ear, increasing my arousal.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! My eyes fly open and I'm laying in my bed. My alarm bombilates next to me, shattering my dream world. My chest is heaving as I try to slow my breathing. I look over to Ginny's empty bed. She must have left already. Draco's party is today. He asked Ron and Ginny to both not attend the party as a belated birthday present, to which they happily obliged. Surprisingly, he did not request that Harry leave, so Harry fully intends to go. I suppose Harry and I will be going together. I pull myself out of bed reluctantly and drag myself out of the room toward the bathroom. I brush my teeth, then jump in the shower. The water splashing down on my face wakes me up and washes away all evidence of sleep. I simply stand under the water, feeling each drop roll down my body, forcing myself to separate my dream from reality. I wash my hair, wash my face, and scrub my body with a warm scented body wash. I decide not to shave with a razor and use a spell instead to be sure I don't miss a single spot, making sure every inch is hairless and perfectly smooth. Turning the water off and stepping out, the air around me feels so cold compared to the warm water. I wrap my towel tighty around myself and use a spell to dry my hair completely before going back to my room.

I pull on a pair of black panties and go over to the closet. I smile as I retrieve the asymmetrical black dress I bought when I went shopping with Ginny a month or so ago. It's no emerald green, floor-length dress, but I like it. The dress is still just as tight on my body as I remember it, still stopping in the middle of my thighs. The sleeve on the right arms stops at my elbow. My face reddens a bit as I notice the sleeveless side makes me feel more exposed than I have ever been before, but that's not saying much. I can feel my hair draped over the bare skin of my left shoulder and the top of my chest. I stare at my hair and face for a minute in the mirror. I pull my robe on to hide my dress. I don't want anyone, especially Draco, to see it before the party. I go out in the hall and knock on Cat's door. She opens the door almost immediately.

"Hey, Hermione!" Cat's velvet-red hair is in a beautiful side braid, laying over her shoulder. Her floor-length, silver dress is shimmering under the light from her room and the hall. The top of her dress dips just under her collarbone, held up by two thin straps over her shoulders. She invites me into the room. When she turns around, I notice her dress is backless. I close the door behind me and follow her into the room.

"I was hoping you could help me," I tell her nervously. "Ginny usually helps me with hair and makeup for events like this, but she and Ron are with their parents for the day."

"Say no more. I'd love to help." She gestures for me to sit down in front of the mirror. She runs her fingers through my hair, looking at my reflection. "So, do you want me to style you by what _you_ like... or what Draco will like?"

"What!?" I exclaim. My face gets red again, as if my dream is written all over my face. My heart races as I try desperately to think of a clever response.

"Hermione, I'm only going with him to the party because you haven't asked him yet." She brushes my hair as she talks.

"Harry overheard the two of you talking last night. He told me everything." I still remember vividly Harry bursting into my room last night, asking if we could talk alone. He told me everything that he had heard. I was genuinely surprised to hear that Draco had said I was beautiful. I know that he is waiting for me to make a move, but I'm afraid. I don't know if I am ready to take a risk like that. He's unpredictable, which means the only thing I _can_ predict is getting my heart broken. But Harry was right to say that I need to try. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in regret, wondering what would have happened if I hadn't been too scared of life.

"So that was him," Cat says, more to herself than me. She begins to straighten my hair, then takes a strand from the front on the right side and pins it back. "He'll prefer your hair down so that he can put his hands through it if he wants to."

I don't respond, to nervous to admit to her that I would want his hands in my hair. I feel stupid for even thinking it. Besides, I feel significantly less eye-catching next to Cat. Her velvet-red hair is so unique and makes my brown hair look so boring. And my dress is not nearly as fancy as hers. I'm starting to feel extremely anxious now. How am I supposed to compete with all of this? I'm not as beautiful as Cat. I'm not... experienced like all his Slytherin girls. I'm just plain. Just Hermione. I watch as Cat picks up a stick of black eyeliner and begins to put it on me. I blink repeatedly as she puts mascara on my eyelashes. She makes sure not to put any of the makeup on too dark, so it doesn't look over the top. She lightly puts on a gold eyeshadow, making my brown eyes look bigger and more vibrant. She steps back and looks at me.

"Done," she finally announces. "You look perfect. Come on, we should get downstairs. The guests are showing up already."

"I'll meet you down there."

"Okay." She walks out of the room and goes downstairs to join the party. I go back to my room. I force myself to keep taking deep breaths to calm my nerves. Harry is already in my room in a black suit with a dark purple dress shirt. I smile at him. He always looks rather smashing. He takes a look at my robe and laughs.

"You're wearing a robe?" Harry chuckles. "Well, that will certainly make a statment. Good thing I'm not ashamed of you."

"Shut up, Harry! I'm not wearing the robe!" I laugh at him, despite the anxious pit in my stomach. I push the robe off and throw it on my bed. I quickly pull on my black, strappy heels and stand in front of Harry.

"You look perfect, Hermione. Shall we?" He holds out his arm to me. I smile, looping my arm through his. We make our way downstairs to the party. The room is already filled with people. The room is decorated in green and silver balloons, streamers, and flowers. Many of the guests turn to look as Harry and I enter the room. There are a lot of people that I recognize from Hogwarts and the Ministry. I can see Professor McGonagall standing nearby in the group of guests. In the middle of the crowd, Lucius and Narcissa show off their son. I am awestruck by Narcissa's floor-length, black silk dress. There are no words to describe how beautiful she looks. However, my attention doesn't linger on her long. Draco is standing there facing me in the same black suit and black dress shirt from my dream. Cat is hanging on his arm, smiling brightly as she listens to stories of Draco's childhood with everyone else.

"Can you believe we made such a beautiful boy!?" Narcissa cries. Cat sees me and waves me over to them. Harry, who noticed the gesture, attempts to push me toward them. I fight against it and keep my distance.

"Okay, Cissa, stop," Lucius pleads. "You're embarrassing Draco."

"You're both embarrassing Draco!" Draco himself hisses at them in third person. He guides Cat over to greet some friends in the corner of the room. He throws his head back in a laugh, causing my emotions to stir in my stomach. The sound of Draco's laugh travels through the air across the room to my ears. I can't help but stare at him. He slides his long fingers through his hair. I wonder if it's as soft as I imagine it to be. Draco excuses himself from the group and heads out the back alone. I glance at Harry, who raises a brow at me.

"Follow him," Harry whispers, nudging me toward the direction in which Draco disappeared. I turn and follow the path he'd taken. A few out-of-place green streamers form a trail toward the door leading outside. I go through the door and find myself in the Manor Garden. All of the large, rare flowers are bloomed, adding extraordinary colour to the entire area. The trees and bushes are all covered in white lights like a Christmas tree. I take a few steps along the stone pathway. Three large fountains are placed around the garden, filling the atmosphere with the calming sound of flowing water. I look off into the distance in front of me, but Draco is nowhere to be seen.

"Looking for someone?" Draco says from behind me. My heart flutters viciously at the sound of his voice. It spreads over me like honey. I turn around to face his smirk as he comes forward from the shadows. He can sense my anxiety like a shark scenting blood in the water. "I knew you were watching me. How else would you have known to follow me out here? You look beautiful by the way."

I scoff at him. "Since when is Draco Malfoy interested in beauty?"

"Since I met you," he answers simply and without hesitation. I stare at him as if he's gone completely mental. I know that this is what I wanted, but my mind can't quite get past the idea that he's supposed to be mean to me all of the time. He's the last person I ever thought I would fall for. His smirk fades completely into confusion. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh, come on! You don't think this is weird!?"

"The only thing that's weird around here is you."

"You don't think this is weird considering everything that's happened between us?"

His eyes gaze off into the past as he remembers. He looks back at me, his smirk returning. "I think it's weird that you're so afraid to just ask me out. What's wrong, Granger? Little girl's afraid to get her heart broken?"

"At least I have a heart!" I snap back. Instead of looking offended, he changes his smirk into a genuine smile. He actually enjoys this? After thinking about it, I realize I kind of enjoy it as well. Aruging like this is just what we do. It rarely ever means anything. We just enjoy the rush of the arguement. He takes a few slow steps toward me, looking directly into my eyes.

"Ouch! That was below the belt. Try to keep those gloves up, Granger." He raises his fists in front of his chest as if we were boxing each other. As I stare at him, I feel my fear increase ten fold. He can see the fear in my eyes. I try to walk past him to get back into the house, but he blocks my path. "Oh, no! You're not going anywhere!"

"What do you want from me!?" I realize how absurd that question sounded considering I'm the one who followed him out here. I can't help it. I'm too overwhelmed with this. I don't want to love him. I don't think I'm ready to love anyone.

"I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you _don't_ love me."

"I-I can't do that." I can't handle this. My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest. I just want to run and hide. I can't face him. This is all wrong! My stomach keeps twisting and turning furiously as my anxiety increases. Perhaps I'm overreacting to an extreme. But the idea of being in love with anyone, especially him, terrifies me to no end.

"This is ridiculous!" Draco throws his arms up. "I see the way you look at me! Why don't you just tell me how you feel!?"

"Draco," is all I manage to say. I don't blame him for being frustrated. I'm frustrated, too. I wish I could handle this. I wish I wasn't so afraid. I wish I didn't love him at all. I can't ignore our past. I want to, but I can't. I can't ignore the fear that he's only going to break my heart. I look around the garden so that he won't see the tears burning in my eyes. I want more than anything to fall into his arms, but I'm too scared... and he knows it. I sigh and try to get past him to the door again, but once again he blocks my way. "I have to go!"

"No, you don't! Don't avoid the question, Granger!" He closes the space between us until we're standing so close that I can't tell which heartbeat is mine and which is his. I want to back away, but my body won't allow it. He looks deep into my eyes with a powerful gaze that makes my knees weak. "Are you in love with me?"

"Please. Don't do this," I hear myself beg him, even though what I really wanted to say was yes. I can't take the thought of telling him that I love him and him not loving me back. That would hurt me more than anything else. However, when I look into his eyes, he's the one who looks hurt. He backs away from me as if I just slapped him. His lip quivers as he attempts to find the right words to speak.

"Why won't you admit it?" His voice is weak and shaking. "Are- are you ashamed or something?"

"No!" I reply immediately, horrified by his words and the heart-broken expression on his pale face. I step toward him, unable to stand the sight any longer. However, I can't bring myself to touch him. I know that if I touch him I won't ever be able to let go. What am I supposed to tell him? I can't tell him that I don't trust him not to hurt me. I strongly doubt he would be too happy about that. "I'm scared."

His expression changes, looking more understanding. He reaches out and grabs my hand before I can pull away. A chilling spark runs through me at his touch. I resist the urge to cry at the strength of the need I have for him. I try to fight it and just ignore everything I'm feeling. He strokes his thumb over the back of my hand. "Scared of what?"

"Of you. Of this. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know if this is right. I don't know what's going to happen. I _hate_ not knowing!"

"Why do you always have to know everything? Why can't you just... let me teach you." He stares so deeply into my eyes that I know what's going to happen. I attempt to back away, but his grip on my hand is too strong and his movements are too fast. His lips crash upon mine like a wave onto the shore. I feel like I'm falling. I know I should break away, but I can't remember why. His breath comes and goes with mine. Unable to fight it any longer, my feelings for him explode from my heart as if a dam has been broken, forcing me to kiss him back. His lips are more full than they seemed in my dream and unbearably soft as they move against mine. So soft. Kissing has never been so soft before. He lets go of my hand to place both of his on my waist, gripping my sides tightly and pulling me up against his chest. I reach my arms up and wrap them around his neck, allowing one hand to slip into his hair. Our bodies seem to melt together, fitting perfectly against each other like a key in a lock. His passion speaks through his kiss as if our hearts are coursing through our lips. He lifts his head, parting our lips. Deep inside my soul it felt as though more parted than just our lips. He became a part of me in that moment. We linger there, our foreheads pressed together, as we try to steady our breathing. I back away from him, finding it difficult to stand.

"You should go find your date," I whisper breathlessly.

"Just give her a minute and she'll-" He is cut off by the door swinging open behind him as Cat bursts through it.

"There you are!" Cat exclaims as she sees Draco.

"- she'll find us," Draco finishes, turning to face her. "My mother looking for me?"

She shakes her head frantically, grabbing his arm in an attempt to pull him back inside. "Your father. He-"

"Draco!" Lucius calls from inside before appearing in the doorway. My heart stops. Draco's body tenses dramatically as his father observes the current situation. No one dares to move until Lucius says something. He remains silent, staring at me intensely. I force myself to continue staring directly back into his cold, grey eyes. However, I feel myself weaken, seeing how his eyes are so exactly like Draco's. I notice the corner's of Lucius's lips twitch ever so slightly. Finally, his gaze shifts to look at Draco, who is staring at the ground. "Ladies, will you excuse us, please? I wish to speak with my son... alone."

Cat and I both slip past Lucius through the door and close it behind us. We stare at each other innocently before each pressing our ears against the door. We listen carefully to pick up every word that the two are saying outside. It's difficult to focus on the conversation as the noise from the party in the other room echos throughout the house. Beautiful music playing softly. The chatter of guests endulging in pleasant conversation, asking about the other's work or sharing charming tales of when Draco was a small child. Forcing myself to block them out, I focus solely on the voice of Lucius Malfoy.

"Do you _honestly_ believe that I don't know what's going on here?" Lucius asks in a deep, slow hiss. I wish that I could see both of their faces.

"It just happened, Father," Draco's voice sounds from the other side of the door. "What do you expect me to tell you? That it was a mistake? I won't."

"So, what, Draco? Are you going to tell me that you love her? That all of the beliefs we've held all this time mean nothing any longer because this is the girl for you?" His voice his harsh, yet there is something else hidden there that I can't identify. My desire to see his expression intensifies. My stomach is in knots as I await the end of this pause of silence for Draco's answer.

"I don't know. She might be." His voice is soft, almost a whisper. My pounding heart tightens. I feel as though my body and the world around it have collapsed in on itself. What does this mean for me to hear him say those words? Perhaps I'm still dreaming. "I suppose you've got a painfully well thought out opinion on that. But those beliefs were never ours, never mine. They were yours. I've tried to get through to you, but you won't listen. You never listen. But it doesn't matter. I give up."

"Oh, you give up, do you? Of course. Merlin, Draco! If I had a galleon for every time that you just gave up then I could-"

"THEN YOU COULD PAY FOR THIS PARTY, COULDN'T YOU!?" Draco's voice cracks as evidence of tears forming in eyes I cannot see. There's a long silence to follow. I feel awful for getting between them like this. The relationship between them has always been difficult enough without me adding on. What am I supposed to do? Stay away from Draco in an attempt to keep his father happy? I may not be strong enough to do that. Do I try talking to Lucius myself? I don't understand. He hasn't seemed to have had a problem with me during the time I've been here. Why is he now suddenly so upset? I hear Lucius sigh heavily.

"Draco, listen to me. You-" Lucius's voice, sounding much more gentle and calm, fades as I back away from the door. I can't listen to any more of this. Cat leaps from the door and runs after me. Harry spots us immediately and rushes to my side.

"Hermione, wait!" Cat pleads. "Where are you going!?"

"Hermione!" Harry grabs me and looks me over. "What's wrong? What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"This was a mistake!" I shout, tears welling up in my eyes. "This whole thing is a mistake! I can't be the one to get in the way of Draco and his father! Maybe it's best for him if I just... stayed away."

"No!" Cat cries. I try to keep looking at the floor. My head is spinning and I feel sick to my stomach. The thought of staying away from him is worse than death. I love him, but I also know how much he loves his father. I could never come between them. No one ever said that the right choice is ever an easy choice to make. And I'm sure... well, maybe sure... no. Am I sure this is the right choice? How am I supposed to know what the right choice is? "Hermione, you can't do that! It will destroy him! Think about this clearly!"

I stand at one of the windows in the manor, looking down into the garden. Lucius and Draco are still standing there. I can only see the tops of their heads, no matter how hard I try to catch a glimpse of an expression. Then Draco walks inside, leaving Lucius standing alone in the garden. I hear footsteps behind me and turn around quickly. My stomach turns at the sight before me. I step back away until I hit the window.

"Cormac?" I stare in disgusted belief at the boy. I haven't seen him since Slughorn's Christmas party in sixth year. "What are you doing here?"

"Not a party without me," Cormac says smugly. "So, I thought I'd come by and check it out. Saw you run up here. Perfect time for a little reunion, don't you think?"

"I should say not. I really should get back to the party."

"What's the rush?" He advances toward me. I attempt to move away, but unfortunately I'm not quick enough. His lips crash against mine, making me especially nauseated. After a painfully long minute of being unable to break free, he releases me. I take this opportunity to slap him as hard as I can across the face. I groan in disgust before storming angrily out of the room.


	7. Draco's Party Part 2

**Chapter Seven: Draco's Party Part 2**

Draco Malfoy

"THEN YOU COULD PAY FOR THIS PARTY, COULDN'T YOU!?" I shout harshly at my father, my voice cracking. My heart is racing with emotion. We both stand there in silence, both of us shocked by my explosion. I have never talked to him like that before. I don't dare speak another word until he reacts first. I prepare myself for the worst. Normally I wouldn't have shot back at him so furiously, but these are not normal circumstances. I would be a fool to ignore the truth: That kiss changed everything. My father sighs heavily, his tense features relaxing.

"Draco, listen to me," Father says calmly. "You misunderstand me. I may have been quick to be upset. I overreacted, but it's not what you think. The beliefs I was referring to were not blood related. I must admit I've been a bit jealous lately. It seems like everyone knows what's going on in your life before I do. I know that I haven't really earned that place in your life, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be a part of it. When Astoria cheated on you, you told your mother but not me. When you pretended to date Cat, you told Blaise but not me. Now you're in love and you didn't tell me."

"_I _didn't even know I was in love with her until two seconds before you came out here!" I defend myself. Although I'm unable to defend myself on the other counts made. I step closer to him. "Look, Dad, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I struggle with being able to tell you things. I want to please you _so badly_, but I can't. So I'm afraid that when something bad happens to me, you're going to say, 'I told you so.' And when something good happens to me... I'm worried that you're going to make me feel bad about it. I didn't know that it mattered to you. I didn't know that it would hurt you. I'm sorry. But this goes both ways, you know. If you want to be a part of my life, you have to swallow your pride and learn how to _feel_ something."

He seems to process what I said to him, watching me with sad eyes. I'm relieved to finally admit that to him though. I've always been too afraid of how he would react to tell him before. He raises his arm slightly as if he's going to reach out to touch me, but rethinks it and lets his arm drop back down to his side once more. "Listen, Draco, I've never told you this before, but... you are the _best_ part of me. Do you know why? Because you are _not_ me. You're better. You're so much better. And maybe it took me far too long to swallow my pride and see that, but I see it now. I see you, Draco. And I am so proud of you."

"Proud of me for what? I couldn't do it. I couldn't do any of the things he told me to do. I'm a coward... everybody thinks so."

"A coward? Is _that_ what you think? You think a _coward _would do what you did? Do you think a _coward_ would put himself in danger in order to protect someone else? You could have gotten out. You had an opportunity to get away from that life and the dangers involved, but you stayed to be here for your mother. A coward wouldn't have done that. You're stronger than you think you are."

I suddenly realize that I have been holding my breath. My father reaches out and wipes away a stray tear that escaped. I feel like a loser for crying, but he's never openly expressed any sort of positive feeling toward me before. We stand there watching each other closely... closer than ever before. He's looking at me as if this is the first time he has ever seen me. Mum used to tell me stories about how Father would play with me when I was a baby. I wish I could remember stuff from that long ago. She said that he used to be so unashamed to show how much he adored me. At the time I thought she was just trying to make me feel better. But now, seeing that look on his face, I'm not so sure.

"I can't really explain why," Father beings, "but if Severus were here, he would tell me that it's not worth it. All of those beliefs and expectations aren't worth it. He would tell you not to let this girl slip through your fingers."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"Let's just say he had a secret of his own. Go after her, Draco."

I hesitate for a moment, as if I'm expecting him to tell me he was joking, then run inside. I shove through all the party guests, but I don't see her anywhere. When I notice Potter nearby, I make my way over to him, forcing my way through all of the people. I grab Potter's arm, "Hey, Potter! Where's Granger?"

"Uh, she just went upstairs a minute or two ago," Potter answers. Without any response, I run up the stairs and look through the rooms. She's not here. I start to doubt myself until I hear voices. I can't make out what they are saying. I follow the sound until it brings me to the source.

"What's the rush?" an unfamiliar male voice says in a hushed tone. I sneak closer and take a glance at the source of the voices. My eyes fall upon Hermione Granger and some random guy kissing. My heart sinks, seeming to fall right through me to the floor. I immediately turn around and go back downstairs. I feel like I'm going to be sick. I mean, she _was _just kissing _me_ not too long ago, right? I didn't just _imagine_ that, didn't I? So who the fuck is this bloke she moved on to so quickly!? Maybe she only kissed me back because she was trying to mess with my head. Some sort of revenge for how I treated her in school. I wouldn't have thought she would be the type of person to do that, but I don't seem to know anything anymore. I shove through the party once more and burst out of the front door. Where am I supposed to go? I don't have anything else outside this house. I collapse against the front gate and let myself slide down to the ground. I bury my face in my hands, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do now. I feel something brush against me, causing me to look up. My father sits down on my left and my mother on my right. My mother wraps her arms around me, making me feel slightly better. To my surprise, my father reaches over and grabs my hand.

"Dad?" I force out in a croak. "You said that Snape had a secret. A secret that meant he would have wanted me to fight for her. What was it?"

Father sighs next to me. "After Severus died, I had to sort through a lot of his things. I found all of these letters that he used to write, but never sent. He was in love with a muggle-born Gryffindor... just like you are. She, too, was probably the brightest witch of her age from what I remember of her."

"But he never got her?"

"No. She married someone else... his enemy even."

"What happened to her?" I wait for my answer as he sits in utter silence. It's strange to try to imagine Snape being in love. He was like an uncle to me and I had no idea. Maybe that's why he always gave Granger such a hard time... because she reminded him of the woman he loved. I wonder why I never heard about this woman until now. If he was so in love with her, why did he never talk about her?

"Lily Potter is dead."

My stomach lurches at my father's words. Snape was in love with Harry Potter's mother!? The entire day has been more than I can handle. Everything I've heard... everything I've seen... it just doesn't seem real. I wish I could return to this morning and do this whole day differently.

"What happened, Draco?" Father's voice is warm.

"She's with some guy I've never seen before... thought it was really hard to see his face when it was on hers like that." I sigh as I replay the moment in the garden. "I'm so confused. I mean, I was so sure. I thought that she- What am I supposed to do now?"

"Fight for her," Mum tells me immediately.

"I don't want to fight for her. I don't want to win her. I want her to choose me because she wants me, not because I'm her second choice."

"Everything's going to be alright."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. I'm your mother... it's just what I say." She brushes my hair away from my forehead gently. "But you know what your father and I will always be here... through thick and thin."

"Well, today is thick. Or thin. Thick? Wait, which one is bad?" I say, confused. They both simply laugh and hug me, squeezing me tightly between them. At least one good thing happened today: I got my father back. I may not have gotten what I intended out of today, but I got something I've always wanted. I just sit there between them. As long as I'm between them, I'll always be safe. At least that's what Mum used to tell me if I had a nightmare when I was little. I wish I could just stay out here. The last thing I feel like doing is hosting that party. I wonder if she's still upstairs with that guy. To my dismay, my parents each release me. Without their force field, the pit in my stomach and the ache in my heart return as quickly as they were inspired.

"So, Draco," Mum starts, "what do you want to do? Do you want to go back in? Or we can go somewhere else. Today is all about you."

"Which is not much different from yesterday, or the day before that, or the day before that, or the day bef-" Father mumbles jokingly.

"DAD!" I shout, pushing him over. I grab on to the gate to help pull myself up off the ground. My parents stand up along with me. I take a deep breath, deciding to just suck it up and move on with the day. We walk back inside and rejoin the party. Unfortunately, people noticed that we were gone. Mum makes an excuse for our absence and announces it to the room. I see Cat frantically waving me over to her in the other room. As I make my way over to Cat, I force myself to ignore Granger when I pass by her. The mystery man of hers is not with her. Once I'm within arm's length of Cat, she grabs me and drags me off. We hide in a room away from the party and all its noise. The second the door closes, I explode in a rant, telling Cat what I saw upstairs.

"I don't understand why she would do something like that!" Cat says once I finish my rant.

"Well, she's a very complex person."

"So are you. You act like you don't care about anything, but you do. You hide your true feelings by being arrogant and cruel, but you have a good heart."

"As long as I act like I don't have a heart, I won't get it broken again."

"Again? W-who broke it before?"

"I was dating this girl. Her name was Astoria Greengrass. Her parents were practically planning a wedding and calling me son by the time I found out that she had been cheating on me for quite a while. It doesn't matter though. All that relationship stuff is a waste of time. I don't miss it."

"Just because you don't miss something, Draco, doesn't mean it isn't missing."

"I need to be in my own head space. Tell my parents I'm going to lie down for an hour or two." I kiss her cheek softly before exiting the room. I drag my heavy body up the stairs toward my bedroom. Oncce there, I collapse on my bed. I rest on my pillow, hoping that if I sleep, the entire day will disappear like a dream. I can still hear Cat's words in my mind: _Just because you don't miss something, Draco, doesn't mean it isn't missing. _I try to clear my mind, but I can't stop thinking about Granger. I still don't understand. I felt what she felt for me when we kissed. I know that it wasn't nothing to her. So why would she kiss that other guy? Who is he anyway? If she was dating him, I should have seen him around here before. Why would she kiss me back if she was already dating someone else? Ugh, my head hurts. My eyelids are heavy and my body is relaxed. If only my mind was so prepared for sleep. Despite my mental restlessness, I manage to fall asleep.

As I walk through my dream, I find myself walking through the empty corridors of Hogwarts in the middle of the night. The air is ice. My body shakes and shivers. My heart speeds up as I realize where I'm headed. I push open the door and climb the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. As I stand in the tower, a large flash of green light engulfs the whole area. I blink repeatedly, trying to get my eyes to adjust once the green light fades away. I'm startled by the sight of a dark figure cowering in the corner with its back to me. I take a few steps toward it. The moonlight is shining on it, but I can't tell what it is. It seems to be a person wearing a large, black cloak. Voldemort? Snape? I narrow my eyes at the figure.

"Hello, Draco," the figure says in a familiar voice.

"Granger?" I breath, staring in disbelief at the figure.

"I've been waiting for you." She stands up from her crouched position and turns around to face me. Her beauty can only be described in one word: Perfect. As she steps away from the corner, I realize she's not wearing a cloak. Massive black wings unfurl behind her. What the-!? My breath catches in my throat in a mixture of confusion and amazement. Her voice... her presence... is seductive, yet terrifying. She walks toward me, holding her arms out to me. I can't bring myself to move. There is something about her that frightens me. She wraps her arms around my waist as her wings fold around me, pulling me closer to her. Her wings are soft and her skin is warm, constrast to the cold night's air.

"What do you want?"

"I want you, Draco." Her voice is like a chilling hiss. My name on her lips is like electricity coursing through my body. She reaches up and caresses the side of my face with her hand. Her hand slides slowly from my cheek down the side of my neck and rests on my chest. I pull her in for a kiss. The kiss feels different from real life in the garden. I pull away to look at her, however, the person I'm looking at is no longer Hermione Granger. I choke on my words, unable to find my voice, as Astoria Greengrass stares up at me. She takes a step back, not removing her hand from my chest.

"She doesn't love you, Draco," Astoria says in a low, angry tone. She walks toward me, forcing me to back away from her. "No one will ever love you. You're going to be alone, Draco... forever."

Her hand on my chest pushes me backward. I feel my body flip over the railing. I watch the moon in the sky above me as I fall from the Astronomy Tower. The cold air whips around me, smacking against my skin painfully. Astoria is rapidly shrinking away in the distance. Finally my body's movements mimic the feeling I've been experiencing for years. Finally I'm falling. It feels as though the ground... the end... will never come. I'm going to be falling forever. Falling alone. Forever. I look around me as I continue to fall. The castle is on fire as it was during the final battle. I force myself to look below. The ground is coming up fast.

"Get up! Get up!" Cat's voice calls, beckoning me and bringing me back to the reality of my bedroom. When I open my eyes, I see Cat standing over me. "Come on, you're missing it!"

"Is it sleep, because you'd be right," I mumble. I want to keep falling. The ground was so close. What would it feel like to finally stop falling?

"No! The cake! Come on! You have to _at least_ blow out the candles!" She grabs my arm and forces me up out of bed. I reluctantly follow her back downstairs. The whole room is waiting for me. I walk over to the cake resembling a giant golden snitch with twenty two candle lit on top of it. I refuse to look around the room. I don't think that I could handle accidently making eye contact with _her_. My mother wraps her arms around me in a tight hug, clearing my mind of all negativity until she lets go.

"Make a wish," Mum insists, taking my hand in hers. I lean over the cake slightly, preparing to make a wish. I wish that I didn't have to be alone anymore. I close my eyes, squeezing my mother's hand, and blow out the twenty two candles. Unfortunately, even in the wizarding world, simply wishing for something over candles doesn't mean anything. It's nothing more than a tradition that people enjoy because they feel as though it gives them just a little more hope than they had before. There's nothing wrong with hope, I guess... as long as you're prepared to be disappointed.

I'm relieved to finally have the party over with and the guests gone. It was actually a nice time though. I danced with my mother like I do at every party. And the rest of the night I spent dancing with Cat and Blaise. While we were all dancing together, I realized something. I don't need a wish and a bunch of birthday candles. I'm not alone. I have my parents. I have Blaise. And now I have Cat. I was a fool to think that I was alone in the world. Maybe I do miss the relationship thing. But it's not like my life depends on it. Why am I in such a hurry, anyway? I'm young. I have plenty of time to worry about love. And my life is already full of so much love that I overlooked before. The future could have more in store for me. As for right now, I have a very strong gut feeling telling me that I need to be in my sitting room. I have learned to trust these feelings. They always lead me to something life changing or important. I rush to my sitting room, unsure what to expect. I walk through the doorway and stop. I laugh silently to myself. I should've known.

"We meet again," I say, announcing my presence as I move to sit on the couch.

"So we do," Potter replies. He is sitting on the opposite end of the couch to my left, shuffling through a large stack of old issues of the Daily Prophet. One article catches my eye. I reach over and snatch it from the pile. A picture of me and my mother looking quite grim frowns up at me. My father's Azkaban photo is printed just above it. I stare down at the three faces as if they are deceased friends of mine that I used to know a long time ago. Potter notices the photographs. "Oh, sorry. I thought I'd gotten rid of that one."

"Remember when you said that people like to keep their darkest secrets hidden? Their deepest regrets buried? Their most painful memories invisible?"

"Yeah."

I toss the paper into the fireplace in front of me. "Mine's out there for the entire wizarding world to see."

"I know the feeling."

"Ever since the war people look at me differently. Like I'm either an evil bastard who betrayed everyone or like a poor, pathetic child who is about to break."

"The people who think you're evil don't know the whole story. They have no idea what it would feel like to actually be in your place, faced with those choices. What they think doesn't matter. And the others probably just feel bad. They know you've been through a lot. Maybe they just want to help."

"They're not helping me. They're reminding me over and over again of the most painful moments of my life. What I lost. What I almost lost. How would that make you feel, Harry?" I ask, forcing myself to use his first name. It must have sounded as strange to him as it did to me. He looks at me, slightly shocked. Then he allows himself to focus on my question. I can tell that his thoughts are with his parents now.

"Like I wish I could do anything to change what happened."

"Sometimes I feel like all I'm ever going to be is that pathetic, heartless coward who betrayed everything and everyone and became a Death Eater." I choke on the words, as if saying them out loud is the equivalent to punching through my chest and ripping my own heart out. Sometimes I wish I could go back and change everything. But I know that as long as my mother was at risk, I wouldn't have done any of it any differently.

"I don't see you that way, Draco." Potter's gaze is somehow comforting. I can tell that he's sincere.

"I know you don't, Potter. You're the only one who doesn't." And in that moment, everything between us seemed to change. He doesn't look like my old school enemy anymore. He looks like someone who understands my situation. Someone who understands how I'm feeling. Someone who seems to actually believe in me. And to have that means everything.

"Do you want to hear something crazy?"

"Because all the talk up til now has been so _normal_?"

"I actually consider you my friend." He simply blinks at me innocently. Harry Potter considers _me_ his friend!? Just when I thought the insanity of my day had died down. Honestly, I'm really glad to be considered his friend. Though I'm not sure how I feel about letting him know that. And what exactly does being his friend mean? Am I going to have to buddy up with Weasley and Granger, too? Oh, kill me. I don't think I could take that.

"You're right, that is crazy. You seriously think we're friends?"

"I don't know if a term exists for what we are, but I'm sure it is distantly related to friends and could possibly become friends at some point."

"Well, if we're going to be distantly related to friends... I should probably warn you... don't use your shampoo tomorrow morning. It's, uh, it's not shampoo."

"What did you do?"

"I'm going to shield you from that one."

"Perhaps you're going to need a shield when I find out what you did."

"Awh, you made a joke. That's nice." I sit there silently while he sorts through the rest of the newspapers on his lap. I watch as the photograph of my father burns away slowly in the fireplace. I try not to think about everything that's happened and how much has changed since. I lay down on my left side on the couch, resting my head on a few of the newspapers Potter was sorting through. My head is only a few inches from his arm as he continues shuffling through the stack. I watch the newspaper in the fireplace. I remember how the flames grew when I was in here with Cat. I stare intently at the flames until they begin to grow and shift. I force the flames to fully engulf the newspaper until there is nothing left but ashes. I wish it was always that simple. I wish that I could burn away my past until there was nothing left but the ashes.

"Draco?" Potter's voice interrupts my thoughts. "What happened between you and Hermione today?"

"I don't want to talk about her," I respond roughly, not looking away from the fireplace as if my eyes are being held captive my the flames.

"Why not?"

"I just don't! I don't want to talk about her or that _guy_, so just let it go, okay!" I try not to let myself get angry with him for asking. It's not like he knows anything about it or he wouldn't have needed to ask. I'm sure that she'll tell him all about it later anyway. I still can't get over the haunting idea that she was just trying to mess with my head in the garden. If that's true, it worked. Definitely worked. I can't stop thinking about it all. I can still feel her lips on mine. But I can still see her kissing that other guy in my mind. I _knew_ that I shouldn't have tried to make the first move. I _knew_ that it would be a mistake. Now I feel cursed by her. She has infected my mind. I was so sure. I thought she might truly love me. My dream flashes back into my mind. Maybe she doesn't. Maybe she never will. Am I supposed to forget all about her or fight for her? How long am I supposed to let myself fall?

"Hey, Harry!" Weasley's voice calls from the doorway. He doesn't seem to notice me laying here, so I don't sit up or make a sound.

"Hey, Ron," Potter returns. "How's the family?"

"Great. Glad I went. The party okay?"

"Yeah, it was fun."

"I'm turnin' in. You stayin' up?"

"Yeah. We'll talk in the morning."

"Night, Harry."

"Night, Ron."

Weasley's footsteps fade and end with the sound of his bedroom door closing. He didn't even see me laying here. I suppose I should be relieved. I'm not exactly up for the fight that no doubt would have occured if he _had_ seen me. Maybe one day we will be able to be in a room together without fighting... but I doubt it. I close my eyes and listen to the shuffling of newspapers and the crackling of flames as my mind begins to drift off to sleep again.


	8. Hangover

**Chapter Eight: Hangover**

Hermione Granger

I wake up the morning after the party, caught up in an emotional hangover that leaves my body heavy. The moment I open my eyes and process my surroundings, details of yesterday's events creep back into my memory. Draco's kiss. Cormac forcing himself on me. Spending the rest of the party watching Draco dance with his friends. Then retreating up to my room to sleep after it all became impossible to watch. The idea of Cormac's kiss still makes me feel sick. It doesn't make me feel any better that Draco didn't even glance at me the entire rest of the night. I can't stop thinking that his father must have convinced him to stay away from me. I groan miserably, rolling over in bed. Ginny's bed is empty. I pull myself up and go over to the desk. After a second of debate, I decide to write a letter to St. Mungo's telling them I won't be at work today for personal reasons. I fold up the letter and slide it into an envelope, then go down the hall to ask Harry if I can use his new owl to send it. I knock on the door to his bedroom, hoping he is already awake. Ginny opens the door and ushers me inside.

"Morning, 'Mione," Ron greets me, still half asleep as he continues to get ready for work. Ginny is fully dressed and sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, clearly waiting for Ron to finish up so they can leave together. Harry, however, is nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning, Hermione," Ginny says sweetly. She gestures toward my light blue sweatpants and tank top that I always wear to bed. "Not going to work today?"

"I'm not really feeling up to it," I reply, walking over to Harry's owl in its cage. I open up the cage and the owl flies out over to the window. I slip the letter into the owl's beak, then open the window and watch it fly away into the clear blue morning.

"Must've been some party yesterday," Ron mumbles, unsuccessfully trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"I can't wait to hear all about it when I get back tonight," Ginny quickly says before Ron has a chance to say anything else. "We should get going. Come on, Ron."

"Wait, where's Harry?" I ask, looking around the room as if to make a point that he's not here.

"Dunno," Ron answers simply. "Far as I know, he never came into the room last night. Wasn't here when I woke up this mornin'."

"He's probably down at breakfast or something," Ginny suggests, dragging her brother by the arm out the door. "Tell him goodbye for us when you see him!"

The two siblings disappear down the hallway. I decide that looking for Harry is a better use of my time than dwelling on yesterday's misfortunes. I go down the hall into the sitting room. At first glance, there doesn't appear to be anybody there. After taking a closer look, I notice a sliver of what appears to be the back of Harry's head on the sofa. He must have fallen asleep here last night. I walk around the sofa and my breath catches in my throat. My eyes widen at the sight of Draco Malfoy sleeping soundly on the sofa. I look at Harry, his glasses hanging slightly crooked on his face, also asleep and leaning against Draco's body. Copies of the Daily Prophet are all over his lap and the floor beneath him. Staring in awe at the sight of the two sleeping boys, I debate whether or not I should just back out of the room slowly or wake them up before anyone else finds them here. They would both be horrified if anybody else were to find them. I reach out and gently push on Harry's shoulder. He shifts slightly, being surprised out of his sleep. He rubs his face with his hand, straightening out his glasses, and blinks up at me. I put a finger to my lips, signaling to him to be quiet, and point to Draco. Confused, Harry looks down at the slumbering dragon next to him and jumps back in shock. I wave for Harry to follow me out of the room, careful not to wake the blond. Harry and I walk quickly back to my bedroom and close the door. When I turn around to look at him, his eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly open.

"What the- what the- what the hell!?" Harry stammers. "Please tell me that I was not just sleeping on the sofa with Malfoy!"

"Um, you were not just sleeping on the sofa with Malfoy," I lie.

"Really?"

"No, I just felt like I owed you some good news. How on earth did you end up there!?"

Harry paces back and forth, his hand on his chin, as he attempts to remember what led him to this very awkward morning. My eyes follow him, studying his movements carefully. He eventually stops, sitting down on my bed and staring down at the floor. "I was sorting through the old newspapers that I had saved when he walked into the room and sat down. We started talking. At some point he randomly decided to lie down. I didn't even notice him fall asleep. I just continued sorting until, I guess, I must have fallen asleep, too."

"What were you two talking about?" I can't help but ask. I find myself wanting to know every detail about Draco.

"Erm, he said that he hates the way people look at him now since the war. I told him that I consider him my friend. He put something in my shampoo. I asked what happened between the two of you, but he said he didn't want to talk about you. When I tried to press it, he got angry, so I backed off."

"Wait, he said that he didn't want to talk about me?"

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger as he forces himself to remember. His forehead wrinkles in confusion as he looks back at me. "Wait a minute. He did say something a bit strange. He said that he didn't want to talk about you or '_that guy_.' Then he told me to just let it go."

"What _guy_?" I cry out, horrified. I don't understand. What's going on!? My heart beats faster as I try to come up with an explanation. Then the whole world stopped. "Oh my gods!"

"What?" Harry's eyes widen with concern, as if he's afraid that I sudden am having a heart attack or something terrible. However, this is much worse than a heart attack.

"Cormac," I whisper so low that Harry leans in toward me in order to hear.

"What are we talking about?"

"Cormac McLaggen was at the party yesterday. That must be the guy Draco was talking about. There's no other explanation. Oh, Merlin, this is horrible."

"I'm quite a few steps behind here."

I sigh, cringing slightly at the need to bring the memory back up. "After I went upstairs, I was watching Draco and his father talking in the garden through one of the windows."

"You what?"

"It's actually less creepy than it sounds. Anyway, after I saw Draco go back inside, Cormac came upstairs. He said some sort of rubbish about not being in a rush or something and then he kissed me." I explain without taking a breath. Harry's eyes widen impossibly further at the last part. I can just tell that he's imagining himself killing Cormac. I collapse onto the bed next to him. "Draco must have come upstairs and saw us. Merlin knows what he thinks happened!? Oh, Harry, what am I going to do!?"

"J-just relax. I'm sure everything's going to be fine. Just go to him and tell him what happened." "What if he doesn't listen!? What if he doesn't believe me!? What if-"

"Hermione, calm down. Why don't you give him the chance to reject you before you start freaking out about it." He sighs, laying back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. I lay back next to him and lean my head against his shoulder. During moments like this, sometimes I wish that it was just me and Harry. There's never any fighting or drama between us. I feel one hundred percent comfortable being myself with him and I've never trusted anybody else more. Part of me still wonders if it would have been easier if we just stayed in the Forest of Dean to grow old like I had suggested years ago. I feel Harry turn his head into mine, his chest resting against my forehead. "So, you're not going to work today?"

"No. I hope you don't mind, I used your owl to send a letter to St. Mungo's to let them know."

"Not at all. You want me to stay home with you or are you feeling like some time alone?"

I don't say anything in response, but I hold on to his arm tightly. I feel him nod in understanding. This is exactly what I need right now. Someone to be there for me and I don't even need to say anything. Someone knocks on my door. Harry and I both sit up, but don't move to answer it. The door opens a crack and Narcissa slips her head inside the room. Once she processes that I'm awake and not alone, she steps all the way into the room.

"Good morning," she says softly. She kneels down in front of us, gently stroking Crookshanks behind the ears. "Ms. Weasley informed me that you weren't going to work today, Ms. Granger. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," I lie. "I just had such a long day yesterday, I'm too exhausted."

"Yes, yesterday was quite an exciting day." She watches me curiously, as if she secretly wishes to ask me something. I feel like I'm under a microscope. Finally she looks over at Harry. "May I assume that you'll be staying home as well?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answers softly. "I'd really like to stay with Hermione."

"I'll send an owl and let the Ministry know." She stands up, taking one last long look at me, then turns to walk out of the room. I wait, listening to her footsteps fade down the hall, before leaning against Harry in exhaustion. I give some thought to Harry's suggestion to write a letter to Draco explaining what happened at the party. I don't know for sure that he saw what I think he saw, but what other explanation is there for what he said to Harry? I wish I knew what he was thinking or what his father said to him. Perhaps if I could get Cat alone for a moment or two, she could tell me what was going on.

Harry and I decide to lie down next to each other along my bed, staring up at the ceiling. He often needed time to sit in silence and collect his thoughts. After everything that he's been through, I can't blame him for needing some time to reflect on it all occasionally. I wrap my arms around one of his and lean my forehead against his shoulder. I feel the side of his face rest against the top of my head. It doesn't take long for our thoughts to run out and our eyes to fall shut, both our minds drifting off into sleep as we lay huddled together on the bed.

Harry and I wake up to Cat shaking us awake, letting us know that lunch was ready. She takes a step back and examines us carefully, a line appearing between her eyes at the sight. Harry and I both wipe the sleep from our eyes, also trying to process our own position. Cat's eyes are wide with confusion as she stares down at us.

"Um, sorry to, er, interrupt," Cat says innocently, looking back and forth from me to Harry.

"Oh, no, no," Harry corrects her quickly. "You weren't interrupting anything! We just fell asleep! I was up really late last night with Draco."

"And I just had a horrid night's sleep," I inform her. "Honestly, it's nothing at all."

"Um, well, Narcissa wants you both to join us for lunch." Cat eyes us suspiciously before turning on her heel and leaving the room. Harry and I exchange a look, as if to question our own motives, before shaking it off as nothing more than an accident. We climb out of the bed and hesitantly make our way downstairs. The thought of seeing Draco is making my stomach turn violently. It's really quite obvious that he's upset with me. How am I supposed to treat him? Should I be friendly to him anyway or should I simply keep my head down until he says something? We arrive in the dining room far sooner than my stomach can handle. With everyone else at work, Narcissa, Cat, and Draco are the only ones here. Cat gives us another glance. Draco and Narcissa, however, don't bother to look up at us as we sit down. I can't even be surprised. There's no doubt that whatever Draco thinks happened last night, he told his mother about it. Draco is upset with me because he thinks I've betrayed him. Narcissa and Cat are upset with me for hurting Draco. Harry seems to be the only neutral one in existence. I beg him for a little help wordlessly with a glance out of the corner of my eye. Since everyone else is ignoring me, no one else noticed.

"So, Mrs. Malfoy, the house looked fantastic yesterday," Harry says to his plate. "Did you do the decorations yourself?"

Narcissa glances up at him, surprised that anyone had dared to speak into the tension. After processing his question, she smiles. "Why, yes, I did. It was a bit difficult with such little time to prepare. However, I'm pleased with the turnout."

"I recognized a lot of the guests. I was surprised that you would know some of them."

"Oh, not all of the guests are technically on the guest list. Often times when large parties like these are thrown, there are people who simply show up without invitation."

"That's actually a relief, I suppose. There was quite a conflict with one of the guests. So, I think it's safe to assume he was one of the uninvited guests."

"A conflict? Oh, no. You weren't hurt were you?"

"No, not _me_… not directly at least." Harry made a quite obvious apologetic glance in my direction. As uncomfortable as this conversation was, it was clear what he was trying to do. He often uses this subtle technique in conversation. Obviously, Draco won't allow Harry to talk about me or explain what happened, so he's going to make it look like coincidence that he's telling Narcissa in front of Draco. If I tried to stop him it would only make things even more awkward for everyone. I sneak a peek at Draco through my hair. He is staring down at his plate, pushing his food around carelessly with his fork. "Just some jerk that we were in some club with back at Hogwarts."

Draco noticeably ceases playing with his food and froze. Narcissa takes a moment to process the information, staring at her son as if to pry the information out of his brain. Unfortunately, she is unsuccessful. Instead she turns back to Harry.

"Now, he couldn't possibly have been on the list. What was his name?" Narcissa asks.

"Cormac McLaggen." Harry answers. I can't contain the involuntary sigh that escapes my throat at the sound of the name. Everyone looks at me, including Draco. I lock eyes with Draco just long enough for both of us to make a few mental connections. He must have understood that Cormac was the boy he saw me with. And after seeing his expression, there is no denying that he did in fact see me with him. I have no other options. Everyone is staring at me and Draco thinks that I betrayed him. There is nothing else to do but say what happened and hope that Draco believes me.

"I couldn't possibly believe that you would have put him on the guest list," I say firmly, the anger I feel toward Cormac displaying clearly in my voice. "He's vile. He thinks that he can just take whatever he wants by force and there will be no consequences! And there were no consequences, not for him!"

My emotions begin to overflow as I finally realize the consequences I'm suffering for Cormac's actions. It was difficult enough getting to the point I was with Draco, and now I could lose it all. A tear rolls down my cheek. Harry holds my hand underneath the table, squeezing it gently for comfort. I don't dare to look at Draco, despite how desperately I want to know his expression. Narcissa seems to be slowly piecing together all of the information that she has until she begins to understand.

"What happened at the party last night?" she asks me, reaching her hand across the table toward me.

I can't hold back my hysterics any longer. I look directly at Draco, forcing him to hold my eye contact before exploding. "I told him no! I did! I tried to push him away! You have to believe me! I would never betray you like that, Draco! Please! It wasn't my fault!"

Draco's eyes flicker with surprise, then concern, and then back to cold and empty. He opens his mouth but closes it again before standing up and walking out of the room. Without even the slightest hesitation, Harry bursts from his seat and follows him. I sit and stare at the empty chair that Draco once filled. I can feel Narcissa's eyes on me.

"H-he's still mad at me," I stammer. "He doesn't believe me. He-he-"

"He believes you, Hermione," Narcissa tells me softly. "Draco is just a very complex person. Now that he knows how much it hurts him to lose you, he doesn't want to put himself at risk of it happening again."

"I would never do that to him!" I shout defensively.

She remains perfectly calm. "I know that. And so does Draco. But if there is any chance at all, even just in his mind, that he could get hurt again he's going to avoid it. And most of the time he does so with aggression."

"So, he's going to be mad at me forever just so that he doesn't get hurt? That's not fair! I-I can't believe I'm losing him and I didn't even get a chance to have him yet! What am I supposed to do!? Just give up and let him move on!?"

"No, no. Hermione, Draco wants to be with you. He's just afraid of getting hurt. What he doesn't seem to understand is that what will hurt him more than anything is having you give up on him. Just keep trying. Keep fighting for him. If that's what you want, that is. Draco is the prize to be won at the end of a very difficult game. He's nothing less than a blessing once he lets you in, but he makes you work for it. The harder you fight for him, the more secure he is in knowing that you really want him."

I sit there in silence, thinking about everything she told me. I suppose that it all makes sense. Draco has been hurt and betrayed so much in his life. He's lost so many people. It seems only right that he would be hesitant to get close to anyone else. Does he honestly think that I will give up? Does he think that I won't fight for him? There has never been a moment where he has been more wrong, and that's saying something. Draco kissed me and that hasn't stopped plaguing my mind ever since. There is no way I would ever be able to give up on what I felt in that moment when our lips connected. I take a moment to wonder what Harry is saying to him right now. Suddenly another thought breaks through.

"Mrs. Malfoy, can I ask you something?" I say with a little bit of trepidation.

"Of course."

"Does Draco ever talk to you about Harry?" I ask. I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders as if I've been dying to ask that question since I arrived, but never even knew.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that, Draco went through an awful lot of trouble to make Harry's life miserable when we were in school. But now, according to Harry, he seems to be so willing to let him in. He doesn't seem to be making Harry work for it."

Narcissa smiles. "Cat, will you excuse us for a moment please?"

Cat's eyes widen at being addressed suddenly, but she nods. She grabs a cookie from a plate on the table and disappears from sight through the doorway. I focus all of my attention on Narcissa now that we are alone.

"I remember the very first time that I heard Draco say that name. He came home for holiday during his first year at Hogwarts and one of the first things he says to me is, 'Mum, I'm in a bunch of classes with Harry Potter.' And then it was all I ever heard. Of course, he would make it seem, usually around his father, that he hated him. But there was more to it than that. He was constantly talking about him. 'Harry Potter made the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. He's the Seeker and he's only a first year.' 'Harry Potter gets all this special attention from all the other students and teachers.' 'Harry Potter is so annoying.' 'Harry Potter this.' 'Harry Potter that.' I started to hear Harry's name around the house more than anything else. He never forgave Harry for choosing Ron Weasley over him."

"It must be quite a bruise to the ego to be rejected by Harry Potter."

"It wasn't about that. Draco met Harry in Diagon Alley while he was being fitted for his robes. Harry walked in with his hair all messy, his glasses taped together, and his clothes far too large for him. His scar was completely hidden and he never told anyone his name. But Draco loved him. He had no idea that he was talking to The Boy Who Lived, but it didn't matter. He still wanted to be his friend. And now Harry is giving Draco that chance after all this time."

"I never would have thought about that. He actually likes Harry."

"He's always liked Harry. But he was jealous of his fame, his friends, and his talent. And he was angry at him for rejecting him. He would be far more destroyed by being betrayed by Harry than anything else after all this time."

"Harry would never do that."

"If you want to get Draco back, it might be helpful to use Harry. So far Harry is the only one that can form a bridge between the two of you and I'm sure there is a lot that he can do for you."

I process this statement. It is almost difficult not to laugh at the situation. It doesn't seem that long ago that Harry and I were talking about how much we hated Draco and Draco was constantly teasing us both. Now all of the sudden I'm desperate to be with Draco and the only one who can help bring us together is Harry. Years of Divination classes could not have prepared me for this.


	9. Astoria Greengrass

**Chapter Nine: Astoria Greengrass**

Draco Malfoy

I wake up early on Sunday morning, unable to sleep soundly. It's been a week since that stupid party and avoiding Granger is starting to get exhausting. I pull myself out of my bed reluctantly. It's also a heartbreaking moment when I have to part myself from the warmth and comfort of my bed, soft blankets, and plump pillows. There is always a sense of safety surrounding me when I'm wrapped tightly in my blanket. But now the sun is up and the time to face the rest of the world arrives. I grab a t-shirt off of my floor and pull it on over my head. I make my way to my door, noticing a small folded bit of parchment on the floor just in front of the doorway. I bend down and pick up the parchment, unfolding it to see Granger's handwriting scrolled across the page. Without even reading it, I fold the note again and carry it with me downstairs to the breakfast table. As I sit down between my father and Cat, I notice my father giving me a look, glancing from me to Granger. I shake my head firmly. Cat leans over and kisses me on the cheek to say good morning.

"Good morning, Draco," Mum says cheerfully. I refuse to look up from the table. I can feel Granger's eyes boring into me harder than ever as if she's trying to will me to look at her. I sit in silence, nibbling lightly on a muffin, staring determinedly at the table.

"Draco, did you get my note?" Granger finally has the nerve to ask. My hand squeezes around the folded note still held in it. I hold it up so that she can see it.

"You mean this?" I mutter, aware that these are the first words I've said to her since the party a week ago. She seems equally aware of the fact as her eyes widen and she struggles to retrain the smile that threatens the corners of her lips. I try not to let the twinge of happiness showing on her face break me down.

"Yes." She nods encouragingly at the note in my hand.

"Yup, got it."

"Can you read it?" her voice is hopeful, holding on to the fact that I'm responding to her.

"I am capable, yes."

"But-"

"I should go," I cut her off suddenly, standing up from my seat. I know that if she continues speaking, I won't be able to shut her out much longer. I need to get far away from her. I almost think I'm safe as I exit the room, but she calls after me. I can hear her footsteps following me.

"Draco, wait! Please!" the sad desperation in her voice forces me to stop. I want to badly to let her in, but I won't let myself do it. My hand rests on the handle of the front door. I can feel her standing close behind me, but I refuse to turn around. I know that if I see her beautiful face, I won't be able to resist. She reaches out and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Draco, please, can't we just talk."

As I'm about to turn around and accept her offer, a knock sounds from the other side of the door that I'm holding on to. I sigh, twisting the handle and opening the door. One of my ex-girlfriends is standing outside. Her dark brown hair is pinned back to reveal her tired face. Her dark brown eyes are staring back at me hopefully. A large smile spreads across her lips as she sees me.

"Hello, Draco," she greets me happily.

"Astoria," is all I can manage in my shock. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I miss you. I was wondering if we could go for a walk." Her smile falters for the shortest of seconds as she looks over my shoulder at Granger.

"Uh, Granger, this is Astoria Greengrass," I say over my shoulder. "Astoria, this is-"

"Hermione Granger," Astoria finishes. "Of course. Who doesn't know who you are? You're almost as famous as your friend Potter these days."

"Merlin, I hope not," Granger whispers under her breath.

"So, Draco, what do you say?" Astoria continues, ignoring Granger completely. "It's been so long since we've talked."

"There's a reason for that Astoria," I say firmly. "You cheated on me, remember?"

"That's in the past now, baby. You know that I still love you. Come on, just go on a walk with me. I really want to talk to you."

I take one glance over my shoulder at Granger, who had only moments ago presented me with the same offer. I look back at Astoria. I know that I'll regret turning her down. I'll always be wondering what she would have said if I'd gone with her. I don't want that hanging over my head. But Astoria did just say that she still loved me. What do I do if she tells me that she wants to get back together? After everything that's been happening with Granger, I can't deny that I have feelings for her. However, Astoria is so different. Who would I choose? I remember what Cat told me her first day here when we were playing cards: _No matter what the other person has to offer, the ace always wins._ I know that I have to go with Astoria, just to hear what she has to say. I turn and look at Granger.

"We'll talk later, Ace," I tell her, watching her forehead wrinkle in confusion at the nickname I have given her. She doesn't need to understand what it means. I step outside with Astoria and close the front door, leaving Granger alone inside. I fall into step next to Astoria as she begins to walk toward the front gate. She reaches over to grab my hand, but I pull it away. We make our way through the gate and head toward a nearby park.

"You look fantastic," she compliments, her eyes scanning over my face and then traveling down my body. "I've missed you so much."

"Well, you should have thought of that before, Ri." I keep my tone cold, but I use her old nickname to take the edge off.

"You're still angry with me after all this time?"

"I have every right to be angry with you for as long as like."

"Can't we just talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about? You cheated on me. I caught you. What more is there to say? I moved on and got a new life."

She glances at me from the corner of her eye as we walk beneath the archway at the entrance of the park. "Moved on and got a new life? A new life or a new girl?"

"What difference does that make? This has nothing to do with – "

"Hermione Granger?" Astoria gives me a sharp look.

"She has nothing to do with us!"

"Then why was she in your house!?"

"There are a lot of people living in my house right now! They're working with my mother! It has nothing to do with us!" I groan loudly, taking a deep breath. I run my hand through my hair in frustration. I sit down on a nearby bench. Astoria stands in front of me, her arms folded across her chest. I allow myself to take a few more breaths before looking at her. "Look at this. We're yelling at each other already after only ten minutes. Don't you get it? This is all we are ever going to be. You ruined us, Astoria. You ruined us when you chose him. It's too late to come back here, telling me you still love me, and expect that things are going to be a fucking fairy tale."

"Draco, it was a mistake. I never forgave myself for hurting you."

"Good, because I never forgave you either," I say coldly, looking directly in her eyes. I stand up and after watching her expression falter, walk back down the path toward the manor. Part of me questions whether or not I had been too hard on her, but the other part of me couldn't care less if I was. I mean, she deserved it, right? And I deserve to be upset, right? Of course, I do. I walk the rest of the way confident in my decision. I was right to walk away. Nothing she could have said would change anything. I go through the front gate of the manor and stand there, staring up at the large piece of stone artwork in front of me. The manor has never looked quite this huge to me before. Perhaps I've just never felt this small before. I walk up the path and push open the front door. Granger is sitting in a chair on the inside of the door. I have to do a double take at first. She isn't the type of girl to just sit around waiting for someone.

"Hey, Ace," I greet her, stepping over the threshold into the house and closing the door behind me. She stands up, her face wrinkling in confusion at the nickname again, but she doesn't bother asking me why I call her that. Not that I mind. I probably wouldn't tell her even if she asked.

"Draco, you're back," she notes, looking me up and down to make sure I'm really there. "You weren't gone very long."

"Well, the conversation didn't take very long."

"Does that mean that I get to talk to you now?" Her eyes are wide with hope as she waits for my response. My heart constricts painfully. It's becoming more and more difficult with each passing second to continue shutting her out. I gesture for her to follow me upstairs to the sitting room. We sit down on the couch. I attempt to keep some space between us, but she has a different idea, sitting directly at my side and resting her hand on top of mine. I can't bring myself to pull my hand away from her.

"So you wanted to talk. So talk."

"Draco, I know that what you saw really hurt you, but I explained what really happened. You do believe me, don't you?"

I don't respond. I simply stare down at her hand on mine. Of course I believe her. But that doesn't change the sickening feeling I experienced when I saw them. I have no interest in reliving it. It's just not worth it.

"I know that you're worried that I'll hurt you again if you let me in. I can understand why you would have some trepidation with us. But I need you to know that I will never hurt you. I'm sure that just saying that isn't enough to convince you and ease your concerns, but I really want a chance to prove it to you." She picks up my hand and holds it close to her in both her hands. She eliminates any remaining distance between us. "I can't just forget about you. I can't forget about the way that you kissed me."

My heart stops at her words. I had been hoping that nobody would ever bring up that kiss ever again. The memory if it comes flooding back over me. Her soft, full lips. Her thick, brown hair. How beautiful she looked in that black dress. I force myself to really look at her now. The same full lips and thick hair. Although I can't help but think that she looks even more beautiful in her pajamas than she looked in the little black dress. I make a decision and act on it before I can change my mind.

"You mean like this?" I whisper carefully, leaning forward and pressing my lips to hers. She let go of my hand in order to wrap both her arms around my neck, entangling her fingers in my hair. I force myself to fight against shivers traveling through my body. After the tremors of pleasure subside, tremors of fear start to make their appearance. I shudder violently, pushing her away. She stares up at me silently. I stand up from the couch, stammering and stumbling backward, "I-I have to go. I- I'm sorry."

I tumble out of the room awkwardly and run downstairs. I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't let her get inside my head. She'll end up just like Astoria. I can't handle that. I just can't. I burst through the door of the only room I know she can't find me: My father's study.

Father looks up at me with wide eyes as he sees me fall through the doorway. I close the door behind me and lean back against it. I know that Father doesn't usually approve of other people being in his study, which is why I feel confident that no one else will come looking for me in here. Of course, there is a chance that he'll kick me out. I take a few steps into the room. I lock eyes with Father, making my eyes large and innocent. Innocence always seems to work with him since he feels guilty about everything that he brought into the manor.

"Daddy?" I say as innocently as possible. His shocked expression softens immediately. I mentally smirk at how easy it is to get what I want from both of my parents. I take a few more steps toward his desk. "Can I hide out in here with you until dinner?"

A half smile appears at the corner of his lips. "What are you hiding from?"

"Everything."

He sits in his large desk chair, watching me carefully. He nods once and returns his attention to the paperwork in front of him. I collapse onto the nearby sofa and pick up the book lying on the end table. Father's study has a completely different atmosphere than Mum's office. Mum's office is a very comfortable room. There are big pillows everywhere. She has vases of flowers and photographs of me everywhere. The windows are always open, letting in the sunlight and the cool breeze. Father's study, on the other hand, is a bit more serious. There are no flowers or photographs anywhere. Simply a black, leather sofa with a few bookshelves in the corner, his large wooden desk in front of the window, and two stiff chairs in front of his desk for his business guests to sit in during meetings. There are a few odd sculptures on a shelf and unmarked bottles on a cart near his desk. Once when I was younger I tried to find out what was in the unmarked bottles and I ended up at St. Mungo's – so I've remained blissfully ignorant to their contents. Instead I focus solely on rows of books.

I proceeded to look through the different books, despite having already read through each of them multiple times since I first learned how to read, until dinner time. Father had to practically drag me out of his study to the dining room. My parents spent all of dinner discussing the most recent Quidditch match with Blaise, Potter, and Weasley. Dessert felt as if it lasted at least two hours. It was already dark by the time we all left the table.

I retreat upstairs and take a shower. I pull on a fresh pair of sweatpants and throw my other pants and t-shirt in the laundry hamper. I dry my hair with my wand and then head back to my bedroom. When I push open the door, my heart stops. My intentions of crawling into bed are demolished by the sight in front of me. I quickly close the door, hoping no one out in the hall can see in. The body currently inhabiting the space of my bed is quite the sight to behold.

She is wearing only one of my dress shirts and her black, silk underwear, leaving her long legs exposed. She pats the bed next to her, beckoning me to come over. Instead I stand frozen in place. Her long hair is flowing in soft curls over her shoulders and onto the bed. My heart races as my mind struggles to process what is happening. Her long, pale fingers slowly undo the top few buttons on the dress shirt as she slides off the bed to stand. I involuntarily walk over to stand next to her by the bed. She runs her hands slowly up my chest. Now that I'm close to her, looking at her, I start to come to my senses. I grab her hands and push them away.

"Astoria? What are you doing here?" I hiss at her.

"I wanted to remind you why we were good together," she whispers softly, taking a careful step closer to me.

"How did you get in here?"

"I got through one of the windows, it really wasn't that hard. All I had to do was –"

"Wait, you _broke_ into my house!?"

"I didn't have a choice, baby. I knew you wouldn't let me in if I just knocked on the front door. And I needed to see you. This is important." She attempts to wrap her arms around my waist, but I take a step backward.

"_No_, what's _important_ is that you get the hell out of my house!"

"Draco, come on. We were good together once. Come here. Let me remind you." She grabs my hand and attempts to pull us both onto the bed. As I feel my body hit the edge of my bed, my shock causes me to jump awkwardly, resulting in my accidently sliding off the bed onto the floor with a pathetic _thud_. She giggles down at me then slides off the bed to join me on the floor. She leans forward to kiss me when a knock on my door causes us both to freeze in terror.

"Draco, can I come in?" Father's voice asks from the other side of the door. My stomach flips so violently that I literally lost my ability to breath for a moment. I push Astoria away from me and shove her away. Understanding the seriousness of the situation, she crawls underneath the bed, disappearing beneath it just as the door opens. Father walks into the room and stares at me with a perplexed expression. "Draco, what are you doing on the floor?"

"Trying to get up," I answer semi-honestly as I scramble to stand. He looks at me and then around the room suspiciously. My heart pounds when I notice his eyes drift toward the floor where Astoria had disappeared only moments before. He arks an eyebrow at me but doesn't say anything. Instead, I slight smirk appears on his lips and he walks over to sit down on the edge of my bed. I resist the urge I suddenly have to throw up. I turn around to face him. "W-what are you doing?"

"Oh, simply spending time with my son." The smug look on his face puts me right on the edge of confessing everything. As I'm about to open my mouth and tell him, Mum walks into the room.

"Mum! Hi! Oh, hi! Don't you two have to go somewhere!? You should take him somewhere," I babble, the words spilling out of my mouth at an uncontrollable speed. Both of my parents stare at me.

"Draco, is there something you're not telling us?" Father asks, making a point to lean back and push more of his weight down on the bed.

"No," I lie, forcing myself not to glance underneath the bed.

"Sweetie, is there something you're not telling us because we'll most likely have heart attacks?" Mum asks calmly, looking around the room.

"Yes," I breathe.

"Okay, sweetie. Goodnight." Mum reaches to grab Father's arm and pull him out of the room.

"What? Goodnight?" Father protests.

"Whatever it is, he can handle it. Let's go Lucius."

I watch in utter disbelief as Mum drags my reluctant father from the room and closes the door. I thought for sure that I was about to be in so much trouble. Astoria crawls back out from under the bed, a scowl on her face. I can't help but smirk at her as she stands up and blows her hair out of her face. She straightens out _my_ shirt that she's wearing and crosses her arms across her chest.

"You're lucky you're worth it, because your father just sat on my head!" she complains.

"Well, at least you got one of the Malfoys onto that bed tonight." I try not to laugh at the angry expression written on her face. However, the anger fades into a sly smile.

"Why don't I try for one more?" She reaches for me but I back away far out of her reach.

"No! I meant what I said in the park earlier. I mean, what is with you!? You cheat on me, I don't see or hear from you in months, and now you break into my house and think I'm going to take you back!? We're done! I don't love you, Astoria."

"I am not willing to lose you that easily."

"Well, you're certainly not going to win me back. You can't win because you're just a Jack. My Ace is across the hall."

"What?" Her expression is confused, but her tone is full of annoyance. "Draco, this is ridiculous. We both know that you're going to take me back, so stop being so stubborn."

"Listen to me very carefully, Astoria. I don't love you. I don't want you anymore. So just leave. Leave and never come back."

She couldn't hide the pain on her face with even the strongest Disillusionment Charm. Perhaps it was a little harsh, but I'm not taking it back. I still care about Astoria, but I don't love her. And I definitely don't want her anymore. She betrayed and humiliated me. There's no way I could ever forgive her for that. She lifts her arm as if to reach out to me, but then rethinks it. She walks around the room and pulls on a pair of jeans. I don't even bother to look at her as she gets dressed and only glance up to see her pull open the window and climb out. I walk over to shut the window, watching her climb down the tree, never to be seen again. Hopefully.


	10. Double Take

**Chapter Ten: Double Take**

Hermione Granger

I'm suddenly scared awake by the sound of shouts echoing throughout the house. I glance at the clock to discover that it's only three o'clock on Monday morning. The shouts continue and Ginny springs up in her bed on the other side of the room, confirming that the screams were not my imagination. Ginny and I jump out of our beds and run into the hallway. Harry, Blaise, and Cat are coming out of their own rooms. Ron is nowhere to be seen. Lucius and Narcissa hurry down the hall toward Draco's bedroom. The rest of us follow them.

Everyone bursts into Draco's bedroom, the screams becoming more heart wrenching. Draco is thrashing around uncontrollably under his blankets. Narcissa freezes in place, tears rolling down her face. Lucius runs around the bed to Draco's side, grabbing his arm and trying to force him to wake. Blaise grabs Draco's legs to try to still him and Harry stands at Draco's other side. Draco finally begins to wake, still terrified by whatever he saw. His fists punch blindly away at Lucius's chest. Lucius shouts over his son's cries for him to wake up and calm down. Eventually the shouting and thrashing cease and Draco slowly opens his eyes. After a moment to process all of the faces staring at him and confirming he is safe, he begins to cry.

I have never seen Draco cry before. I only recall Harry telling me that he saw him crying in the bathroom years ago. Narcissa goes to hold her son, but he pulls the blanket over his head. Hurt more by his pain than his rejection, Narcissa leans into Lucius for comfort. Before anyone can speak, the muffled sound of Draco's voice is babbling from underneath the blanket as he cries into his pillow. His body shifts slightly and his words become clear.

"So many, s-so many b-bodies," Draco cries hysterically. "B-blood everywhere."

I look at Lucius and Narcissa and instead of them looking disturbed by his dream, they are staring down at the floor in remembrance. Draco's horrid dream is something that actually happened. My stomach turns at the thought. I remember reading in the prophet that after our break-in to Gringotts, Voldemort had massacred all of the employees. Draco must have been there when it happened.

Draco continues to sob. He pushes off the blanket and reaches his arms out to anyone. Harry is the first person to fill them. Harry sits next to Draco on the bed, allowing Draco's arms to wrap tightly around his waist. The blond rests his head on Harry's chest while he cries. Harry wraps his own arms around Draco, his forehead wrinkled in grave understanding. The sight is the most bizarre and unlikely thing to ever be seen and part of me wonders if this is one of those dreams within a dream moments. Not only would Draco never cry like this, but he would also never wrap his arms around Harry for comfort and support. Despite the disbelief of reality in this moment, I can't help but focus on the intense sadness I feel for Draco.

Lucius walks over to the desk across the room and searches through a few bottles. He picks out a small, blue bottle and carries it back over to the bed. He hesitates as if he's about to sit down next to his son, but changes his mind. Instead, he clears his throat and hands the bottle to Harry.

"What is this?" Harry asks, taking the bottle.

"Calming Draught," Lucius replies, staring down at his child in obvious discomfort. Harry opens the bottle and tries to gentle push Draco into a sitting position. Draco is still leaning with his back against Harry's chest as Harry pushes him up and brings the bottle to Draco's lips.

"Come on, Draco," Harry whispers soothingly. "Just take a little sip of this. That's all you need."

Draco accepts the potion as Harry tilts the bottle up. Almost immediately, Draco relaxes in Harry's arms. He stops crying and simply lets his eyes fall closed. Harry sets the bottle on the end table.

"Alright," Lucius breaks into the silence, "everything's fine. Everyone go back to bed."

Lucius and Narcissa lead Blaise, Cat, and Ginny out into the hall. Harry and I both stay behind to be with Draco. Harry and Draco slide down so that Draco can lie back down without letting go of Harry. I crawl into the bed on the other side of Draco. Harry gives me a tired smile as I slide closer to them. I wrap my own arms around Draco, holding on to Harry's forearm rested across Draco's torso. I can feel the steady movements of Draco's body as he breathes. I allow myself to breathe in his scent, inhaling deeply. The three of us fall asleep after a few minutes and sleep soundly through the rest of the night.

I enter St. Mungo's to start the work day. I'm feeling far more refreshed and well-rested than ever before. Sleeping so close to Draco put my mind at ease. I actually feel bad for leaving him today. Fortunately Cat is there for him during the day. I rush to deliver my daily sweets to all of the other Healers in the building before getting to work. I check with the other Trusted Healer to catch up on what is happening. Lorelai pulls out the different sign-in sheets to read off and a few notes.

"First things first," she begins. "The Healers. First Floor is looking good. MaKayla is learning really well. I think it's time that we take her out of the training stage. Violet, Natalie, and Hailey are all in good shape. Second Floor: Selena and Rosalina are perfect. However, Lena seems to be struggling a little bit keeping up with the pace of things. Maria hardly ever shows up. We need to talk about letting her go."

"MaKayla Wood – promotion. Maria Williams – termination," I say out loud as I write down the notes to remind me for later. "Okay, continue."

"Third Floor: Olivia, Scarlett, and Renee are still looking great. However, no one has seen Madison in about a week."

"Have someone go to her place and check up on her. If there is no legitimate reason for her not to show up to work for a whole week without even sending an Owl, then we need to let her go. We can only afford to have reliable Healers working here. This is the health and safety of other lives that we're dealing with here. What about the Fourth Floor?"

"LeAnne and Juliet have been working above and beyond expectations. Leila and Annabelle are both acceptable; however, they don't have the best attention span. That's a particularly dangerous quality considering they are working with the special cases locked up in the Janus Thickey Ward."

"Consider having them switch places with to competent Healers on the lower floors."

"Last is the Fifth Floor. Ivory and Valerie say that the Hospital Shop is running smoothly. Everything seems to be in order."

"Perfect. We need to fill out the proper forms if we are going to fire Maria and possibly Madison as well. We'll also have to speak to some of the ladies downstairs to see who would be willing to move to the Fourth Floor and switch with Leila and Annabelle."

"Alright. Don't worry about the patients. We still have a few dragon pox and Scrofungulus patients, but there haven't been too many other patients. Nothing the other Healers can't handle."

I thank her before walking around to explore the hospital myself. I unpack the new shipment of healing potions that were delivered this morning. I begin restocking the Skele-Gro on its proper shelf in the storage closet. Occasionally I am interrupted by other Healers coming in asking for Deflating Draught or a Blood-Replenishing Potion. I quickly finish stocking the rest of the potions. On my way out, I grab a Deflating Draught to reduce the swelling of a patient suffering from a dragon bite. I rush to treat the patient, slightly unnerved by the green colour of the injury. Camilla, the receptionist, calls me down to the ground floor for assistance.

I step off the lift on the ground floor and see Harry pacing back and forth in the lobby. There is quite a commotion as a seemingly endless parade of people makes their way through the front door. When Harry spots me, a relieved expression on his face, he rushes to my side. I continue to glance over his shoulder at the people entering the building.

"Harry, what's going on!?" I ask, horrified by the appearances of some of the arrivers.

"We attempted to apprehend one of the criminals from the Wanted posters, but he managed to slip into a local pub," Harry explains. "It turned into a bit of a hostage situation and there was a lot of damage as you can see. We're probably going to need to take up the entire Fourth Floor. Most of the injuries are spell damage."

"Oh my gods, are you alright!?" I grab his hand and quickly scan him all over for any signs of injury. He looks shaken, yet unharmed.

"I'm fine. I just wish I could have done more to prevent all of this. A lot of innocent people got hurt today."

"It's not your fault, Harry. You did everything that you could. Don't worry; I'll get everyone that I can spare up to the Fourth Floor to tend to everyone immediately. Go upstairs to the Visitors' Tearoom to collect your thoughts. I'll be up to see you as soon as I can get away."

He simply nods, clearly still unsatisfied by the outcome of today's events. He always struggles to accept that he can't save everyone. I sigh, forcing myself to put my concern for him aside until I can tend to the new patients. I call down Lorelai and the other Healers who aren't currently busy with other patients. They all come down to help guide the new patients up to a room on the Fourth Floor. There are a few others who were scattered about the other floors as well. I'm suddenly very appreciative of the timing of our newest shipment of healing potions I stocked this morning. We go through countless bottles of Calming Draught, Deflating Draught, and Skele-Gro. A couple of patients require Blood-Replenishing Potion or a Cure for Boils Potion. We almost run out of Bruise Removal Paste.

I spend the next hour or so running around from room to room and floor to floor aiding patients. All of the Healers are going from one patient to another, clearing up dried blood, healing cuts and bruises, mending broken bones, reversing the effects of curses, hexes, and jinxes of all sorts, and administering potions. By the time I can get away to go upstairs and see Harry, I half expect him to have already left. However, when I step off the lift on the Fifth Floor, I see Harry sitting in one of the chairs in the Visitors' Tearoom. He is leaning forward on his knees with his face buried in his hands. I sit down in the chair next to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

"It's not your fault, Harry," I tell him again. "There is no way that you could have known what was going to happen. You did all you could to protect them and get them here. I've personally checked on every single patient you brought here and all of them are going to fully recover."

Harry lifts his head to look up at me. His troubled expression urges me to listen carefully to what he is about to say as he takes a breath. "Hermione, I'm not sure that this is what I want to do anymore."

I inhale sharply in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think that I can handle this job anymore: constantly chasing dark wizards, carting people off to Azkaban, seeing innocent people get caught in the crossfire. I used to think that this is what I needed to be doing. I thought that after being born into everything that I was with Voldemort, that continuing to protect people from other wizards like him was my purpose. Now I'm not so sure."

"You're rethinking your entire career just because of what happened today?"

"It's not just today. It's everything. Every day that I go out searching for all of these terrible people, I feel like I'm voluntarily putting myself right back where I used to be. I'm tired, Hermione. I'm tired of fighting."

"I can't imagine how you're feeling and I won't pretend to. You've been through a lot, Harry, and I'm sure that a job like this can bring back a lot of troubling memories for you. But this is a very important life decision that you're making here."

"I know that you're just being concerned, but it isn't going to change my mind."

"Harry, you really need to think this through properly. You can't just quit your job."

"Why not? There are plenty of other aurors who can handle it. I've been training most of them to be capable of taking my place anyway."

"And what exactly do you plan to do with your life if you quit your job?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe I'll find a different Ministry job. Or maybe I'll start my own business like Fred and George did. I have plenty of money to live off of until I figure out what I'm going to do."

"I'm just not sure this is a practical decision, Harry."

"I can't live on practical anymore, Hermione. I keep thinking about what happened with Draco in the middle of the night. I've never seen him so scared before, Hermione. Babbling about there being so many bodies everywhere, so much blood. I couldn't even say anything to comfort him, because I know that there is nothing that could be said. I know what it's like to have those nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat under the blanket in the middle of the night. Nothing anybody says can make that go away. Nothing anybody does can make that okay. No matter how many criminals I catch, it doesn't bring back the people who were killed. It only makes the nightmares worse. I can't expect you to fully understand my decision, but I just think this is something I need to do."

I know that I won't be able to understand how he's feeling. How could anyone understand without experiencing what he's been through? However, I can't help but think logically about this situation and worry that he's not making the wisest choice. I was affected by what I saw with Draco before as well. And I also get tired of my own job, constantly seeing injured people every single day, bringing back memories of the war. But I couldn't imagine myself quitting my job. This is my career and I've worked very hard to get where I am. Plus, I know that despite the occasional discomfort, I know that I'm helping a lot of people. Harry seems to be beyond the point of being comforted by the good he's doing for other people by throwing these criminals in Azkaban. My protests are interrupted by another auror rushing off the lift toward us. The man is holding what looks to be a letter in his hands. Harry and I both stand up as he approaches.

"Potter, we have to go, now," the auror says, slightly out of breath. "There was a body found in the woods of Wiltry Park."

"Isn't that the park across from Malfoy Manor?" I ask absent-mindedly.

The auror nods quickly and continues, "We aren't sure of the condition of the body. All we know is that it's a female. She may still be alive, but we aren't sure. I've been told that there is evidence to suggest Lorenzo Cane may be involved."

"I've seen his Wanted posters all over for months."

"That's because nobody has been able to catch him," Harry says, exasperated. "He manages to slip out of our grasp every time."

"The Ministry wants us to the scene immediately before any evidence that can help us catch him disappears. You should probably come to," the auror says to me. "If she's still alive we'll need a Healer on sight."

The three of us leave the hospital and Apparate to Wiltry Park. There are already reporters being held away from the area and passersby trying to get a look. Once we get close enough to actually see the body, all thoughts I ever had of convincing Harry to remain an auror vanish. The body is completely immobile, lying in the dirt underneath some trees. None of the trees or ground around her look disturbed. A middle-aged man taking notes looks up from the body and spots us. He gestures for us to come closer before speaking.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," the man says. "My team has been collecting evidence and we have a few things that might help you catch the man you've been looking for. Cane, is it?"

"Yes, sir," Harry confirms. "And what about the girl?"

"The girl was dead before we even got here. Seems she's been dead since approximately one or two in the morning. The bruising on the neck suggests strangulation. It is most likely the case that she was strangled elsewhere and then placed here afterwards. Brown hair, brown eyes, approximately twenty, maybe twenty-one years of age, and about 5'3 in height. Poor thing was probably just taking a late night walk through the park and Cane must have taken her by surprise."

"Why would he kill her?" I ask, staring down at the body. The body, even with its back to me, feels as though it's watching and listening. I reach for Harry's hand, feeling cold and scared.

"He probably couldn't risk having her telling anyone that she saw him here." The man makes a couple more notes as he speaks. I can hear the clicks and see the flashes of the cameras behind us attempting to get a shot of the scene for the Daily Prophet.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. "The girl's family should be notified. Do you have her identified yet?"

"Yes, we have a name, hold on," the man flips through the pages of notes in his hands searching for the girl's name. "Ah, here it is."

"Who is she?"

"Astoria Lyn Greengrass."


	11. The Black Veil

**Chapter Eleven: The Black Veil**

Draco Malfoy

The tenacious knocking at my bedroom door pulls me grudgingly across the room. I search through my brain for an insult to spit at whoever appears on the other side of the door. I yank the door open forcefully to reveal Potter and a strange man standing in the hall. My insult gets lost as I process Potter in his Auror robes and the somber expression on his face. I stand back to silently allow the two men to step into the room. The stranger stands next to the door in silence, his arms crossed firmly across his chest. He doesn't seem like he's going to be speaking any time soon, so I turn to Potter instead. Potter sits down at the end of my bed and gestures for me to sit next to him. The blurry memory of him gently tipping a potion into my mouth in the middle of the night softens me up enough to take a seat next to him on the bed.

"So, I've been trying to capture Lorenzo Cane for quite some time now," Potter begins in a low voice, "but he's managed to get away every time."

"That's nice. I'll be going now," I brush him off and stand up from the bed.

"We think he has something to do with a body that we found in Wiltry Park this morning."

I collapse back onto the bed when he continues speaking. "And apparently I'm officially a part of this conversation. How exactly did that happen?"

"Would you just listen, Draco? This is important."

I stare at the serious look on his face and glance at the statue of a man standing by the doorway. The atmosphere is tense. "Go on."

"We found a dead body in Wiltry Park this morning. She's been identified as Astoria Lyn Greengrass."

I'm overwhelmed with the sensation as if I've been hit by a train. My vision is starting to blur slightly and the room is spinning. My stomach is knotted up and my head is pounding. I rest my head against Potter's shoulder. He grips my arms in an attempt to hold me steady. I feel the side of his face against the top of my head. I fight back the urge to vomit as I process the information. She can't possibly be dead – I only just saw her last night. I feel so sick. I slowly lift my head, causing the room to spin faster, and look at Potter.

"W-what happened?" I stammer in shock.

"We think that she was strangled by Cane because she spotted him in the park. Her time of death was placed at around one o'clock in the morning. We can't figure out what she would be doing in the park at that hour though."

"It's my fault," I whisper, choking slightly on my words, the realization too much to bear.

"What are you talking about?" Potter leans in closer to me so that he can hear. He wraps an arm around me. I normally would have pushed him away, but I can't find the strength at the moment.

"Astoria was here last night. I found her in my room after dinner. I told her that I wanted her to leave and never come back. She has to cut through the park in order to get back home from here. It's my fault. I shouldn't have told her to leave. I should have let her stay or taken her home myself. I- I-"

"Draco, listen, there is no way that you could have known what was going to happen. I know that isn't going to make you feel any better at all, but it's not your fault. I'm sorry. I can't bring her back or ease what you're feeling, but I promise you, Draco, that I will catch who did this to her. I'll do whatever it takes. I promise."

I don't respond, however, I do feel a slight comfort at his promise. Although I still feel incredibly nauseated, so I crawl underneath the blankets and bury my face in my pillows. I feel Potter lay a hand on my back for a moment before getting up off of the bed. I hear the shuffling of footsteps and then the sound of my door closing. I clutch the blanket tightly, holding it underneath my chin. I don't even know what I should be thinking at this moment. How am I supposed to be feeling? Perhaps it's a mistake. Maybe they made a mistake identifying the body. Or maybe there is another girl with the exact same first, middle, and last name as her that would have happened to be in the same area at the same time. Now I'm just being ridiculous. It has to be her. I curl into a ball as someone knocks on my door. I make no attempt to move. The door creaks open and my mother's face appears. She slips into the room and closes the door behind her. There are tears in her eyes as she comes over and lies down next to me on the bed. She strokes my hair gently and waits a long moment before speaking.

"Draco?" her soothing voice whispers softly. "Harry told me what happened. Are you okay, baby? Do you need anything?"

I can't find my voice in order to reply. All I can do is clutch harder at the blanket. I try to tell myself over and over again that it isn't my fault, but the guilt remains. How could I have just kicked her out so carelessly in the middle of the night? What am I going to tell her family?

"Hermione is already planning a funeral for her," Mum continues. "It's going to be on Sunday the thirtieth. Are you going to go?"

I nod slowly. There is no way that I could not go to the funeral. Although I'm not sure I'll be able to stomach seeing her mother and sister. But it doesn't matter. The only thing worse than going would be not to go.

"Everyone is really worried about you, darling. They really want to see you."

I clear my throat and force my voice to work. "I'm not ready to see anyone right now. I'd rather just stay in here until the funeral."

"I'll check on you as often as I can and make sure Remy brings you some food. At least try to get out of bed if you feel up to it." She sighs behind me. She strokes my hair away from my face and kisses my temple lightly. I feel her slide off of the bed and watch as she walks out of the room and closes the door behind her. I roll over and stare at the window where I last saw Astoria, thinking about what might have happened if I had allowed her to stay.

I straighten my tie, looking at my pale reflection in the full length mirror in my bedroom. I brace myself as I open the door and slip out into the hall. I haven't left my room, except for the occasional bathroom break and shower, since I was told of Astoria's death. Trying to avoid the flow of questions about how I'm holding up or if I need anything, I sneak around corners as I make my way downstairs. I hide in the drawing room, knowing that no one else would dare be in there. The empty room still feels cold, as if _his_ evil presence still lingers here. I can vividly see the memory of Granger lying helplessly on the floor. I feel my heart skip a beat and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I know without even turning around: She is there.

"Hello, Draco," her voice drips over me like honey. I slowly turn around to face her.

"Hey, Ace," I whisper. I'm practically breathless for a moment. Her brown hair frames her face in flowing waves and curls. She is covered in a long, black dress with white flowers stitched around the bottom. Her beautifully pale skin glows, daring me to come closer.

"Are you hiding from me?" she says jokingly.

"Are you looking for me?"

"I haven't seen or heard from you in days. I was getting worried."

"I know. I'm sorry. My mind has been all over the place lately."

Walking over to me, her eyes lock on mine as if she is trying to see into my soul. She takes my hands and puts them over her heart. My eyes fall closed at the warmth of her skin under my hands. I can feel her heart racing. I am desperately trying to ignore all the thoughts and feelings tumbling through me. I want so badly to hold her and never let go. She slowly moves forward and pushes herself higher. As soon as her lips melt into mine I am powerless and my heart aches as her tongue traces mine. I tangle my fingers into her hair. All of my thoughts of my nightmares and funerals fade away and I feel the weight that has been on my shoulders roll off of me like water. My heart stops at the sound of a throat being loudly cleared. I pull my lips away from Granger's, causing an aching pain to stab through me, and lift my eyes slowly to meet who has found us.

"Hello, Draco," Blaise smirks at me as he leans against the door frame.

"Oh, uh," I stutter awkwardly.

"Don't stop on my account. No, really. I would hate to break up your little From Here to Eternity moment. It's not like we have any place to be."

"We really should be getting to the cemetery anyway," Granger says, avoiding Blaise's gaze as she slides past him to escape the room. "Bye, Draco."

I watch her disappear, the aching in my chest growing stronger. "Bye," I whisper.

"It's time to go," Blaise tells me. "You going to be able to handle this?"

"Let's just get this over with," I mumble. He puts his arm around my shoulder as we walk toward the front door. My parents are giving orders to the house-elves. Potter and Granger are standing by the door waiting for me. Granger reaches her hand out for me to hold. I accept her hand, taking a deep breath. The six of us walk out past the front gate and then Apparate to the graveyard.

Astoria's family and friends are already at the graveyard, standing in a circle around a beautiful, stone tomb. Potter and Granger stand back as I push my way through the other guests to stand in front of the tomb. I feel a hand slip into mine and look over to see Astoria's sister, Daphne, standing next to me. On her other side is her mother. Mrs. Greengrass has a long, black veil covering her face and a white, silk handkerchief in her hand.

I stare down at the stone tomb, not fully allowing myself to process that Astoria's body is inside of it. Daphne hands me a rose to place on top of the tomb along with all the others that were placed upon it by her family. I can feel everyone's eyes on me as I bend down and place the rose on top of the others. The roses all magically bind together and then become part of the stone tomb, allowing us all to be magically bound to her forever. Eventually everyone begins to step away and disperse. I kneel down next to the tomb and wait there until I'm alone with Astoria. I rest my hand on the warm stone.

"I'm sorry, Ri," I whisper. "I shouldn't have let you leave. I suppose people always look back at what they regret after it's too late."

I reach into my pocket and pull out an old photograph of me with Astoria. I place a spell on the photograph to keep it protected from the elements so that it will be preserved. I toss the photograph onto the tomb and stand up. I hear a twig snap behind me and turn around. Granger takes a few slow steps toward me.

"Are you alright?" she asks, glancing down at the item I had just thrown onto the tomb.

"I'll be fine," I reply. "Look, Granger, I know I've been a git lately."

"I understand, Draco."

"I let Astoria leave because I was too proud to forgive her and I was too stubborn to stop being angry. And now it's too late. I don't want to do that to you."

She steps forward into my arms. "That's not going to happen with us."

I pull away and kneel back down. Granger gracefully lowers herself onto the grass and watches me as I gaze over the tomb. Nothing about this moment seems real. Nothing about this entire day, the entire past week, seems real. I keep expecting to go home and find Astoria sitting on my bed as before. Part of me wishes that she would be there. Part of me wishes that, despite how angry I've been at her, that she would always be there. The realistic part of me, however, knows that she won't be there. I can't bring her back. The liar in me wants to say that if I could go back, I wouldn't let her leave. But I know better. I was too stubborn and too angry. I was ready and willing to hold a grudge against her for the rest of our lives. I just didn't think that one of those lives would come to a close so soon. I wanted her to leave my bedroom – I never wanted this. I feel Granger lace her fingers in mine.

"I remember when Ri and I were kids," I recall aloud, more for myself than for Granger to hear, "Astoria wouldn't let her sister, Daphne out of her sight. Whenever Daphne would come over to hang out with the group, Astoria would beg to come along. She would always sit in the corner of the room watching us, completely fascinated as if she were watching a Quidditch match. We usually ignored her, but she didn't seem to care. All she cared about was that she was allowed to stay and watch. Daphne always used to joke about how Astoria had a 'stupid little child crush' on me."

Much to my relief, Granger doesn't say anything. She simply watches me and waits to see what I will do. I am glad that she doesn't say anything. There's nothing that she _could_ say. I can't bring myself to look at her. I can't bring myself to look at anything except the stone in front of me. I take a deep breath and continue to voice my thoughts, knowing that even if Astoria can't hear me, someone is listening.

"When I first stepped up to this spot and saw this tomb, I wished that we were those stupid little children again. I wished that she was still sitting in the corner. That she would be watching in fascination. That nothing was different. That nothing changed." I finally force myself to look up, looking around the graveyard and seeing Astoria's family standing nearby. I then look over at Potter, who is standing a few feet away, watching me with concern written clear as day on his face. Finally, I look down at Granger's hand in my own. "We're not children anymore. And everything's changed."

"This is almost an ironic moment," I continue, unable to remain silent with her gaze on me so intensely. "Now I'm the one sitting in the corner, staring on in a completely different kind of fascination."

"And Astoria is still watching you, Draco," Granger finally says. "She's just in a different corner now – not as easily seen. But she's still there. She heard everything you said."

"I didn't appreciate her enough. I don't appreciate anyone enough. I never have."

"You were hurt – you were angry with her –"

"That doesn't give me the right to – " _To kill her_, I think the last words to myself, knowing how she's react.

"To what, Draco? You didn't do anything. Merlin, you and Harry –" she laughs humourlessly " – always carrying more blame and guilt than you ever earned."

I instinctively look up at Potter. Even from the distance, I can see the guilt in his own eyes to equally match with mine. My heart aches slightly, wishing he were standing next to me. Perhaps he would know what to say. I continue watching him as I speak to Granger, "What does he have to feel guilty about?"

"He blames himself for everything. All of the damage that Voldemort caused, Harry puts on his own shoulders to carry. He was talking about quitting his job as an Auror only moments before we found out about Astoria. He said that he couldn't handle chasing down evil anymore and watching innocent people get hurt when he fails to catch them. He said he feels like every time he's chasing a criminal, he feels like he's chasing his own past, refusing to let go of it. But now he says he can't quit. He says that if he had only caught Lorenzo Cane month ago, Astoria would be alive and you wouldn't be so upset. He's determined to find him now – for you."

"So, he's staying in a miserable job that he hates because of me?"

"Oh goodness, I should have seen that coming. Draco, what you and Harry both need to understand, is that you can't save everybody – and you can't blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. Just because you could have stopped her from being in the park, doesn't mean that it's your fault that she was killed. These things happen, Draco. I wish that I could tell you why, but I can't. Awful things happen all the time as a result of a series of unfortunate events. The fault can't be laid on one person."

When I don't say anything, she takes a deep breath and continues, "There's no point in blaming yourelf. There's no point in mauling over what you could have done. What you should have said. Who's more right or less wrong. You need to figure out how you're going to keep going."

"It feels like the war all over again, doesn't it? Saying stuff like that. Trying to figure out where to go and how to move on. I feel like I haven't even moved on from the war yet, and now I have to figure this out, too. It's a lot to process."

"I don't think anyone has moved on from the war yet. But that doesn't stop the world from spinning on without us. Life is going to continue and more things are going to happen and sometimes it will seem like it's all piling up on us too fast. But we'll figure it out."

"So what do I do now?"

"Let go. Let go of all this guilt that you're harboring on yourself. Not just for Astoria, but for the others that you blame yourself for – Crabbe, Snape? They don't blame you. Just let go, Draco."

I inhale slowly and deeply, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back. I try to focus on the feeling of the light wind blowing softly against my skin. I breathe deep, as if I'm asleep. Perhaps I am? Perhaps this has all been a dream. If I open my eyes, what will I see? Will I be laying in my bed, wrapped in Potter's arms with Granger at my side and an empty bottle of Calming Draught placed on my bedside table? I take one last deep breath and slowly open my eyes. No bed. No empty potion bottle. I'm still in the graveyard, staring up at the clear, blue sky. I stare up at the sky, hoping for some sort of sign of anything. The only thing to be seen, floating through the air high above, being carried further and further away by the tugs of wind, is a single black veil.


	12. Nightingale's Soldier

**Chapter Twelve: Nightingale's Soldier**

Hermione Granger

It's only been about three days since the funeral, but I have seen significant improvement in Draco's mood already. This morning he finally came out of his room and ate breakfast at the table with everyone else for the first time since he found out about Astoria's death. Of course, my concern for him and all the help and attention I have been giving him hasn't gone unnoticed by Ron and Ginny. After lunch when we've finished eating, Ginny drags me back up to our room. Her expression is stern and her arms are folded across her chest. I sit down on my bed, watching her stand in the middle of the room, and wait for her to begin lecturing me.

Ginny pinches the bridge of her nose as she takes a deep breath. "Okay, Hermione, tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Oh, Ginny, calm down," I insist, trying not to let her get on my nerves.

"Calm down? It's obvious that you've been hiding something from me. We barely spend any time together or talk at all lately and we're sharing a room! And now here you are devoting all this time to Malfoy!"

"Astoria is dead, Ginny!" I spit out harshly. "He's really upset right now! He needs someone to be there for him. And I don't think that I need to explain myself to anyone."

"This has been going on even before she died, Hermione. I know that you always have to be the one to heal the birds with the broken wings, and if it was only that it wouldn't be a problem, but –"

"But what, Gin?"

"There is definitely more to this than Florence Nightingale nursing a wounded soldier."

"Are you comparing me to Florence Nightingale?"

"Are you going to answer my question? What's going on between you and Malfoy?"

I take a deep breath and stare back at her. I wait a long moment before responding as I think about my answer. I'm supposed to tell her what's going on with Draco? I'm not even sure that I know what's going on with Draco. He allowed me to come in his room and talk to him since the funeral. And I keep replaying everything that he said to me at the funeral. So, what _is_ going on between us then? Is he my friend? Is he my boyfriend? I notice that Ginny is growing impatient in my silence.

"Look, Ginny, I don't know exactly what's going on between us right now," I attempt to explain, choosing my words very carefully. "What I do know, is that I really have feelings for him."

Her forehead wrinkles and she opens her mouth to retort, but I cut her off.

"Now before you say anything, let me remind you that this is my life and I can make my own decisions."

"But-"

"I'm old enough to decide who I want in my life –"

"Hello ladies," Ron sings as he bursts through my door without knocking.

" – and who I don't," I finish, rolling my eyes.

"Jeez," Ron groans, "what the hell is going on in here?"

"Nothing – anymore," I tell him, watching Ginny closely. "We were just finishing up our conversation. And I was just leaving.

"Where are you going!?" Ginny demands as I stand up and head for the doorway. I turn around in the doorway to look at her.

"Nightingale has a soldier to take care of and some broken wings to mend," I mutter. And with that I turn and head down the hallway toward Draco's bedroom. The last thing that I want, and I'm sure the last thing that Draco really needs at the moment, is for me to become one of those girls who bombards the guy with all of these ridiculous questions about what type of relationship we have and where he sees things going in the future. I've always hated girls who put guys on the spot like that. I don't want Draco to feel pressured or anything, especially if he's not looking for a relationship. However, I can't help but have my own version of these questions. I knock softly on his door and crack it open slightly. He's lying comfortably on his bed, leaning back against the headboard, reading a book. He waves me. I slip inside the room and close the door behind me.

"Hey Ace," he greets me.

"Hey soldier," I say jokingly, although realizing at the confused expression that appears on his face that he wouldn't understand the joke.

"Soldier?"

"It's a long story. I hope I'm not interrupting," I whisper, glancing at the book in his hands.

"A welcome interruption," he assures me. "Besides, I've already read this book about three times. What's going on?"

I sigh, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. "I just got cornered by Ginny, wanting to know what's going on between us."

He allows the book to fall closed and he leans forward. "Uh oh. I'm sure that was a civilized conversation. What did you tell her?"

"The truth. That I'm not sure."

"You're not?"

"Are you? Because if you are, I wouldn't mind if you shared the details with me."

"I suppose nothing has really been clarified. Relationship talks aren't exactly my thing."

"Does this mean we have some sort of relationship?"

He doesn't respond, though his eyes soften as he seems to studying the details of my face carefully. Eventually he takes my hand. "Listen, Ace, I like you – a lot."

"I like you a lot, too."

"But I'm not some fairy tale prince who believes in happily ever afters. I'm not that romantic bastard who buys you flowers and tells you he loves you every day. I'm not sure exactly what you're looking for when you think that you want a relationship – but I'm fairly certain that I'm not that guy."

"I'm not looking for you to be _that guy. _I'm not looking for you to be anything other than what you are. I like you, Draco. I don't need flowers to convince me of that. I'm also not going to tell you that you have to give a relationship with me a shot if you don't think that it's for the best. I've told you how I feel – I've done my part. If you decide that you want to test the waters and see if we can make it work, then you know where to find me."

I attempt to stand up and leave, but he doesn't release my hand. I look back at him, slightly surprised. He pulls me down toward him. I reposition myself so that I'm lying down next to him, pressed up against his side. He rests his arm around my shoulders, holding me to him, as I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"I want to be with you, Granger. But I won't lie to you – I have no idea what I'm doing and I can't guarantee that I'll be able to do anything right. I'm not romantic and I don't do 'I love you's, I need you to know that now."

"I understand, Draco." I lay there silently, smiling to myself. I got the answer that I wanted. I try not to let my thoughts drift to how Ron and Ginny will react. At least I know that Harry will be supportive.

The tension increases exponentially as we all sit around the table during dinner. Draco decided to tell everyone about the choice we made earlier about trying to take our relationship a step further. Some of them took it well, others did not. Cat practically cheered at the news. Harry looked very pleased. Blaise and Lucius both had completely expressionless faces. Narcissa looked pleasantly surprised. Ginny looked disappointed, however, not surprised. The only problem was Ron.

Ron's face is turning red – the shades becoming darker than his hair. Harry has a hand on his shoulder in case any sort of restraining is required. Draco, of course, looks smug at this reaction. Ron's jaw is clenched tightly. Finally he can't seem to contain his disapproval any longer.

"What the fuck are you thinking!?" he spits at me. "Is this some sort of joke!?"

"Ron, calm down," Harry pleads.

"Don't tell me to calm down! It's obvious that you knew about this and didn't tell me!"

"This is exactly why we didn't tell you, Ronald," I tell him calmly. "We knew that you would overreact."

"You think I'm _overreacting_!?" he shouts. "This is _Malfoy_ for fuck's sake!"

"Excuse me!" hisses Narcissa defensively.

"Let it go, Mother," Draco assures her, still smirking smugly at Ron. "It doesn't bother me."

I sigh down at the table, frustrated by all the tension. I wish that my friends could just let me make my own decisions about my life and support me. Well, of course, Harry has always done just that, but I really hoped the others would as well. I take a deep breath, hoping it will give me courage, and look up at Lucius. He is already looking at me and our eyes lock intently. Given everything that he has always believed about Muggle-borns, it can't be a particularly pleasing thought to find out that his only son has gone against those beliefs.

"This is just ridiculous!" Ron continues, exasperated.

"Oh, shut up, Ronald!" I snap without thinking. Everyone looks at me in shock. I roll my eyes and decide to look directly at Ron. "I am with Draco because I want to be. That is the decision I've made and it is _my_ decision – not yours. He's changed and if you were mature enough to let go of this grudge, you may have seen that. _Now_, as much as it would mean for you to support me, I know that you won't. So the least you can do is just leave me alone about it."

He stares at me, flabbergasted by the outburst. He doesn't seem to know what to say, which is better off since I don't want to hear a word from him at this moment. I know that Draco has a very questionable past and he's never treated Ron kindly. I know how difficult it is to forgive him for everything that he is done. But the fact that one of my best friends can't support me in something that means so much to me really hurts.

"Excuse me," I whisper breathlessly as I stand up from the table and rush out of the room. I storm wildly down the corridors, unsure where I'm going until I get there. When I finally stop and look around, I'm standing in the drawing room, where Ron had once protected me. I stand in the center of the room and I can hear the crashing of the chandelier and the shattering of glass. I can feel Ron's arms around me, pulling me out of the way. Before I can allow myself to become overwhelmed by the memory, I hear footsteps behind me. Part of me expects it to be Harry or Draco coming to comfort me. The other part of me is hoping that it's Ron coming to apologize. I turn around and, with a small gasp of surprise, see Lucius Malfoy standing in the doorway.

"May I join you?" he asks politely, gesturing vaguely to the entire room. I nod slowly, slightly embarrassed by my behavior at the table. I'm sure that having an outburst like that can't make him any more confident in my worthiness of being with his son. He takes a few cautious steps into the room, looking around with a grim expression. "I come in here a lot."

"To remember all the horrible things that happened in here?" I watch him curiously as he walks to stand in front of the large fireplace.

"To remember what I almost lost," he corrects me, staring blankly into the empty fireplace. I hear him sigh heavily. "To remind me that Narcissa and Draco need to be the most important things in my life. Draco is extremely important to my life, Ms. Granger."

"He's important to my life, too, Mr. Malfoy. If he wasn't, I wouldn't have risked two of my closest friendships to be with him. Ron and Ginny, despite the conflict you have with their family, are extraordinary people. I love them dearly."

"And yet they don't seem to be very supportive of you. Perhaps you have chosen correctly in your decision of who is more important."

"I never said that Draco was more important to me than my friends. However, I also never said that he was any less important either. I have feelings for Draco that aren't going to go away. I would never forgive myself if I gave up the opportunity to at least see if we have a future together. My friends don't understand that. They're shocked, they're upset, and they're overprotective of me. It's no secret to you how your son treated all of us when we were in school."

"Let me guess, Ms. Granger – you expect that your friends will take some time to calm down and then they will come around. You believe that they will learn to accept your relationship with my son and everything will have a happy ending."

"What's so wrong with a happy ending?" I laugh humourlessly. "Why don't you and Draco believe there could ever be such a thing?"

"Because we both have seen many endings to many different stories, Ms. Granger, and they have never been happy ones."

"Perhaps you're reading the wrong stories."

He stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. I wait patiently for him to say something, anything. He bites his lower lip lightly in concentration to collect his thoughts. I see his chest grow with his large intake of breath.

"You know that our family has high expectations - expectations of those born into the family and those who marry into it."

I take a deep breath. I half expected this topic to arise at some point during my stay here. "Your expectations, Mr. Malfoy, are unrealistic as well as close-minded. You can force Draco to marry a rich, pureblood woman and you can continue on with your family traditions that you have been so openly proud of all these years – but he won't be happy. I'm not a pureblood, but I know that you won't be able to find a pureblood who cares about him as much as I do, who understands him the way I do, or who will challenge him the way I can. My blood status doesn't hold me back in any way, Mr. Malfoy. I am just as intelligent as your son and just as capable of meeting all of the other expectations that your family has set. Perhaps you should consider the fact that you were the one who said that Draco must be the most important thing in your life before anything else – including expectations, traditions, and blood status. Whatever it is that makes him happy should be what sets the expectations."

"You're a brave young woman, Ms. Granger." He takes a few slow steps toward me. "I can see now what my son sees in you. You far surpass reasonable expectations. If this is what he wants, and if you can be trusted to be good to him, then I suppose it is important for me to let him live his life."

"That's very big of you."

"If I don't allow him to think for himself, then all he's ever going to be is –" he turns slowly in a circle, looking around and gesturing toward the large empty room " – this. I don't want that for him. I want him to have more than horrid nightmares and heavy regrets. He deserves better than that."

"Perhaps you do, too."

His empty eyes fill with shock at my statement. He opens his mouth to respond, but closes it again. I take his speechlessness as an opportunity to end the conversation and go find Draco.

"Goodnight, Mr. Malfoy."


	13. The Moon

**Chapter Thirteen: The Moon**

Draco Malfoy

So far the morning of Sunday, July 14th has been beautifully in my favour. I just have one of those feelings that today is going to be a lucky day for me. I'm in a good mood, which has been a rare occurrence these past few weeks, so I'm treasuring it for however long it lasts. I finish getting ready for the day and rush downstairs to the breakfast table. As I had hoped, my father is sitting in his usual seat with the _Daily Prophet_ held in front of his face. Blaise and Cat are whispering back and forth, occasionally glancing up at the only other two people at the table: the Weasleys. The Weasel and The Weaselette, enjoying their breakfast. I walk quickly past them, but am sure to acknowledge them as I have been doing the past week. They are still angry that Granger and I are together, which of course makes me so happy. I can't help but add fuel to the fire by being civilized every chance I get.

"What's up, Red Fire One and Red Fire Two," I greet them, flicking the Weasel in the side of the head with my middle finger as I pass by. They both look up and exchange wide-eyed glances, silently making the connection that I am, once again, making fun of their hair colour. The Weasel, as expected, scrunches up his face in an angry pouting expression and returns his attention to his breakfast.

"Good morning, Malfoy," Ginny or whoever says to me, the polite tone in her voice so obviously forced and she doesn't even bother to look up from her plate.

"Yeah, whatever," I respond in a dull tone. "Where's Granger?"

"I'm right here," Granger's voice sounds from the doorway. I look up quickly to see her and Potter entering the room. She walks over and kisses me softly, but the kiss ends far too soon. She turns her attention to the rest of the room. "Everyone getting along in here?"

"He flicked me in the head," Weasley grumbles bitterly.

I notice Granger's stern and questioning expression directed toward me. I simply shrug. "If you would control your friend I wouldn't have to do things like that."

She tries to hide her smile by looking away from me and grabbing a biscuit from a platter on the table and sitting down in her usual spot between Potter and my father. I make my way around the table to sit across from her, taking a biscuit for myself. I sit there staring at her, slowly pulling the biscuit apart and popping pieces into my mouth. She seems to do this task much more gracefully than I do. Between bites she looks up at the newspaper next to her.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," she says, her tone a bit more warm than normal. The corner of his newspaper tips down so that he can peer over it at her.

"Good morning, Ms. Granger," he replies politely and then returns to his reading. It's clear that whatever conversation they had after my father went after her on the 3rd has definitely thawed the ice between them. I smile down at what is left of my biscuit in satisfaction. My mother walks into the room and takes her seat. She is unable to hide the large smile spread across her face when she looks up at me.

"Good morning," Mum says vaguely to the room. "Draco, darling, have you remembered to write to Professor McGonagall? It was so thoughtful of her to send the basket after the funeral. It would be polite to thank her."

"Well, I was going to do that tomorrow – which is today, because it's already today and not tomorrow." I pause, processing what I just said. Of course it's already today, you idiot! The current time is always considered today and not tomorrow! I shake my head at myself. "That made sense before I said it out loud."

"Make sure you get that letter out today, dear."

"I will, Mother." The only reason that I have even agreed to write a thank-you letter to McGonagall for the stupid basket is because I feel I owe her a thank-you for getting Granger and I together. Obviously the letter will be about the basket, but in my mind I know that if she hadn't suggested to Granger that she move in here and have these sessions with my mother, then we probably never would have seen each other again. I shudder involuntarily at the thought. I look up self-consciously to see who noticed. Of course, Granger's face is silently questioning my well-being.

I stare back at her for a long moment, realizing for the first time the reality of the situation. It is true that we may have gone our whole lives without seeing each other again. I never would have discovered my feelings for her and we wouldn't be together. It's truly a bizarre thought. She smiles brightly, her cheeks turning pink, as she notices my scrutiny. I laugh inwardly at how her nose crinkles up when she smiles or laughs. She is incredible. Her eyes mesmerize me – there is so much emotion hidden there that I am unable to read. The light brown colour of her eyes is speckled with a slight spark of red, giving intense warmth to them.

I can't help but laugh at myself. In what parallel universe would I have seen myself acting and thinking this way? And not just about Granger, but anyone. It seems too out of character for me, but I can't stop myself. Is this what happens when you fall in love with someone? You suddenly find yourself consumed by it until you're a completely different person than you were before? That's fucking terrifying. The idea of unconsciously becoming a new person because of someone else is terrifying. The idea of being in love is terrifying. The idea that someone could be in love with me is terrifying. I'm completely terrified and it feels amazing.

I notice Granger nodding toward the doorway, raising her eyebrows at me. Suddenly she stands up and I understand that she expects me to follow her. I get up and follow her upstairs. She closes the door to my bedroom and stands there staring at it for a long moment before turning around to face me. She then begins to pace back and forth across the floor as I watch her curiously.

"You're going to burn a hole in the floor," I mutter, watching her feet shuffle back and forth repeatedly over the carpet.

"Look, I think it's important that you know something," she begins, finally stopping to stand still and look at me. "I made plans with Ron, just the two of us, to spend the day together on Wednesday. We both have the day off of work and I promised him we would do something together."

My jaw clenches tightly at the news, but I don't respond. I simply stare at her blankly until she decides to continue.

"I know that you two still have conflict between you, which is why I wanted you to hear about this from me instead of someone else."

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. "The two of you are spending the entire day together? Just the two of you alone?"

"I'm hoping that if I can show him that we're still friends that maybe he will come around and be a little more supportive of us. It's really important to me that Ron and I can continue to be friends after everything that we've been through. This will give us a chance to talk about things and hopefully work it out."

"You know that he still has feelings for you and you're going to spend the entire bloody day alone together?" I'm starting to get very frustrated. What is this intense feeling burning inside of me?

"You're not jealous, are you?" She raises her eyebrows at me. Oh. Jealousy. That's it.

"Jealous that you're going to spend the entire day with another guy who not only has feelings for you, but hates the idea of you and I being together more than he simply hates me!? Why would I be jealous of that!?"

"You don't have to get upset."

"I don't!? You know how I feel about him!"

"I know. And I know how he feels about you. I wish that the two of you could put the past behind you. I mean, is it really necessary to hold a grudge that is based on nothing?"

"Based on nothing!? Are you fucking with me!?"

Right before the fight is about to go to the next level, I stop. Her eyes are wide with innocence as she stares back at me. I take a deep breath, allowing the fight to simmer down, and simply stand there in brutal silence. I force myself to look up at her, slowly walking toward her. She walks backward away from me and I continue to walk toward her until her back is against the wall behind her. My breathing is slow and deep. It seems as though she has stopped breathing all together. I feel my heart racing faster and faster the more my mind processes the scent of her skin and how close her body is.

Trapped between my body and the wall, she awkwardly pulls at the buttons on my shirt. I laugh slightly at her unsteady hands and pull my arms out of the sleeves. The shirt falls to the floor and is forgotten. She lets out a surprised laugh as I pick her up suddenly and hold her against me. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

I allow my gaze to drift slowly over to the bed, my heart stopping for a moment. My attention returns to her as I feel her kiss the base of my neck. She is so beautiful and warm – and she is mine. We lock eyes with intensity as I carry her over toward the bed and set her down upon it gently. I release her and hover over her for a moment, admiring the sight of her. Unable to resist, I lean down and press my lips to hers. She accepts me openly and pulls me down on top of her. My smitten heart gives a tiny leap of excitement and heat and emotion surge through me.

She pulls back to look at me, studying my face. I can't help but smile uncomfortably at the blatant observation. I hold her face – warm and smooth against my skin – in my hands. I watch her eyes move as she scans over my face, waiting patiently until she is satisfied. Finally a wide grin spreads across her face and she laughs softly, pulling me back down into another kiss. We struggle awkwardly out of our clothes while attempting to leave our kiss unbroken. We shift our bodies further onto the bed. We laugh openly at the awkward movements and struggles as we both try to figure out what the hell we're doing. All of the scenes in books I've read always make these moments seem to graceful. I suppose it doesn't work that way in reality. We don't naturally know where the other person is going to move and our limbs end up bumping into each other or getting tangled. All we can do is laugh.

I try not to allow myself to panic at the enormity of the situation. If I panic I may talk myself out of this and I would most likely regret that. Who the hell am I kidding? Of course I would regret that! I just need to relax. I take a deep, cleansing breath. My mind calms itself immediately when I look down at the smile on her face. She can tell that I'm nervous and she reaches up and brushes my hair out of my face. I lean down and kiss her – there's no turning back now.

She knows how to hook me. The sunlight coming in through the window glows on her skin. Her skin couldn't possibly be smoother. I lay on my back next to her waiting for my breathing to steady. Granger is laying on her side next to me, her head resting on my chest. She suddenly laughs softly to herself.

"What?" I ask immediately, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing – I just – I can hear your heart beating. It makes me happy."

I laugh, mostly out of relief that that's all it was. She kisses my chest, right over my heart, and then rests her head again. She traces lazy shapes on my stomach with her index finger.

"I feel like I'm dreaming – in which case, don't wake me up," she mutters against my skin.

"You're not dreaming," I assure her, assuring myself in the process.

"In which case, don't let me fall asleep." She stops tracing along my belly and allows her hand to still. I can feel her yawn lightly. I squeeze her tightly in my arms. She lifts her head, resting her chin on my chest, and looks up at me. "Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

"I'm not mad at you, Ace. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. He's been your friend far longer than I've been anything but vile to you. I may not be pleased by the idea of the two of you spending the entire day alone together, but I could never ask you to give up your friendship with anyone for me. I doubt that would bode well for me in the long run."

"I don't want you to be upset or uncomfortable with this. Your feelings are equally as important."

"You want to maintain your friendship and you already promised him you would go. So go. I'll be fine. Of course, that does mean that you're leaving me here alone with Potter all day. You're going to have to make that up to me, especially if I can make it the entire day without strangling him."

"Oh, come off it." She swats at my chest playfully. "You can pretend that you still hate Harry all you want, but I see right through you. Besides, won't Cat be here? I'm sure that she can rebuff any sort of risk for casualties."

After a few very long moments, we decide to get up and get dressed. My legs are shaky when I stand. My stomach is flipping wildly. For some reason I feel almost as if I'm more nervous and terrified now than I was before we'd slept together. What the hell is happening to me? Is this what the start to a panic attack feels like? I try desperately to look nonchalant as I pull my clothes back on, inwardly questioning every choice I've ever made in life. Was this the right thing to do? It was way too soon, wasn't it? What if she regrets this later and it ruins everything. I've heard that women sometimes do that. I feel like such an idiot. I had to know that she wasn't the time of girl to just jump into bed straight away. _Alright, stop! _I'm being ridiculous. I'm overthinking this. She seems fine.

Fully dressed, she stands up straight and uses her hands to pat her hair back into place. She walks over to me, pushes herself up on her tiptoes, and plants a light kiss to my lips. I have only seconds to process the contact before she pulls away and scurries out of the room. I float out of my room and all the way downstairs with my brain seemingly barely attached to the rest of me.

I'm trying not to overthink all of this and overwhelm myself with all of these questions. However, part of me can't resist. All of the other relationships that I just jumped into bed straight away in eventually had a very dramatic ending. I can't tolerate the thought of things going in that direction with Granger. She's definitely not like any of the other women that I've dated. I shouldn't have treated her like one. Although technically she didn't seem hesitant or uncertain before or after.

I'm sure that Granger is already talking the entire situation out with the Weaselette right now trying to decide if it was the right decision, how she feels, and where she should go from here. I resist the powerful urge to eavesdrop on that conversation. Maybe I need to talk to someone, too? If she can go and hash out the whole thing to make herself feel better, why can't I? The only problem is, who the hell is there for me to talk to about this? There's no way I can tell Blaise. He wouldn't take this seriously for even a second. Cat doesn't really seem like the type of person who would be particularly helpful to me in this situation either. I sigh heavily as I realize the only option left.

I must be losing my mind. There has to be someone else I can talk to about this, anyone else. Please? No? Okay, fine. I stand and stare blankly at the door in front of me, looking for any excuse to talk myself out of this. After searching my brain for any alternative person to talk to and any reason why I shouldn't need someone to talk to at all and coming up with nothing – I push the door open and step inside the room. I'm immediately met by curious eyes. It's now or never. I need peace of mind and there is nowhere else to get the answers that I require. Just swallow your pride, and the embarrassment that is sure to come, and go in there. I walk further into the room, taking a deep breath, and prepare to begin what is possibly the most awkward conversation of my life.

"Mum? Dad? Can we talk?"

Oh, Merlin, kill me now.


	14. The Fire

**Chapter Fourteen: The Fire**

Hermione Granger

I'm starting to become overwhelmed as the fight seemingly escalates. I knew that Draco wouldn't be happy about me spending the day with Ron, but I didn't exactly foresee this reaction. I'm almost positive that he's going to start yelling, but instead he stops completely. He takes a deep breath and stares at me. The silence in the room is deafening. My heart pounds with nervousness as he begins to walk tantalizingly slow toward me. He continues walking and backs me against the wall without touching me, pushing me with only his proximity. My breath catches in my throat as if his unbearable closeness makes me incapable of breathing.

I know now that there is no way around him. There's nowhere for me to go but into his arms unless I plan to force my way through the wall behind me. My hands are trembling as I reach up to undo the buttons of his shirt. He laughs slightly as he helps me by pulling his arms from the sleeves and allowing the shirt to fall to the floor. Much to my surprise, he suddenly picks me up and holds me tight against him, causing me to release a high pitched laugh out of shock. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, fortifying the idea in my mind that he is mine.

I notice his eyes shift over to the bed. I feel as though my heart has been jump-started without warning. My heart stops then returns with intensity. Heat surges through me like an electric current. I plant a delicate kiss on the base of his neck in order to silently give him the permission he is wordlessly asking for. He carries me to the bed and places me on it. When he lets go, I want to cry out like a child and grab him, but resist the urge when he doesn't back away. He stands there, bent over me, lingering mere inches from me. It feels like an eternity before I feel his lips touch mine and I pull him down on top of me, desperate to me as close to him as possible.

I break the kiss so that I can look at him properly. I stare at him in complete awe, admiring the way the corner of his lips curve up slightly higher on the right side when he smiles. He holds my face in his hands as he waits for me to move. I take the time that he is giving me to really process this moment in my life. I study each tiny detail of his face as if I will find answers hidden there. I have never had sex before. Plus, this is Draco Malfoy and we have only been together for a very short time. Is he really the one that I want to be my first? And if he is, is this the right time?

After everything that has happened, I don't want him having any doubts about the way that I feel about him. This may be very important to our relationship. I want him to know that I'm committed and that I'm serious about this relationship. I don't want to give him time to doubt that or to talk myself out of it. I smile up at him and the light I see in his eyes as a response makes my final decision. I giggle and pull him in for another kiss.

The awkwardness of the following events somehow makes me more confident in the fact that this is what I want to do. However, that is the only thing that I am feeling confident about. I'm overwhelmed by the entire situation. _I wonder what he is thinking right now. What am I doing? I hope I don't say or do anything stupid. Is my body good enough? He looks incredible. I've never seen a man naked before. Hell, I've never even seen another woman naked before. Not even Ginny. Oh, please, Merlin, just don't mess this up and ruin everything._

After we are finished, he rolls off of me and lies on his back next to me. I shift closer to him until I'm snuggled perfect against his side, safely under his arm with my head resting on his chest. Despite our positioning and the intimacy we just shared, he still doesn't feel close enough. No matter how close he is to me he will never be close enough. No matter how much time we spend together – even if I spend an eternity being with him – it couldn't possibly be enough. As I allow myself to relax completely, my mind registers the sound of Draco's heart beating steadily in his chest. Despite my attempts to hold it in, I laugh at the pure perfection of what I'm hearing.

"What?" Draco asks immediately.

"Nothing – I just – I can hear your heart beating. It makes me happy," I answer honestly. He simply laughs in response. I lift up and kiss his chest before resting my head once more. He doesn't understand how special the sound of his heartbeat is to me. The heartbeat is the steady song that tells one they are alive. His life is so precious – the sound a blessing. The heartbeat harmonizes with the soft inhales and exhales of his breathing. I'm swept away by the music, consumed by utter peace, as I unconsciously trace swirls all across his belly with my finger. "I feel like I'm dreaming – in which case, don't wake me up."

"You're not dreaming," he mutters into my hair.

"In which case, don't let me fall asleep." I allow my hand to rest, yawning softly. I feel Draco squeeze me tightly, making me feel as though the two of us could melt into one single person if the embrace is left unbroken. I lift my head to look at his face. His eyes look tired, but there's a smile gracing his beautiful, full lips. "Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

"I'm not mad at you, Ace," he assures me sweetly, using his nickname for me that I still don't understand but love nonetheless. "I shouldn't have gotten so upset. He's been your friend far longer than I've been anything but vile to you. I may not be pleased by the idea of the two of you spending the entire day alone together, but I could never ask you to give up your friendship with anyone for me. I doubt that would bode well for me in the long run."

I am relieved to hear him say that he does not expect me to sacrifice my friendship with Ron, however, part of me is not fully convinced. "I don't want you to be upset or uncomfortable with this. Your feelings are equally as important."

"You want to maintain your friendship and you already promised him you would go. So go. I'll be fine. Of course, that does mean that you're leaving me here alone with Potter all day. You're going to have to make that up to me, especially if I can make it the entire day without strangling him."

I decide to drop the topic of Ron while it is still on a good note and focus on his other statement. I laugh, slapping his chest playfully. "Oh, come off it. You can pretend that you still hate Harry all you want, but I see right through you. Besides, won't Cat be here? I'm sure that she can rebuff any sort of risk for casualties."

We lie there in silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying the other's presence, before getting up to get dressed. I feel incredibly self-conscious as I gather my clothes from the floor and pull them back on. I dare to glance over at him, watching him dress himself for a moment. I look away quickly in fear of him catching me staring. It's suddenly hitting me – the full truth of what just happened. I definitely don't regret that it was Draco, but I worry that it may have been too soon. I don't want him to think that I'm _that_ kind of girl. I don't care if she doesn't approve of our relationship – I need to talk to Ginny – now.

Once I'm fully dressed, I fix my hair and run over to kiss Draco once more. Part of me doesn't want to leave his side even for a second, but I know that I have to go find Ginny. I rush out of the room and down the hall, bursting through my bedroom door with the utmost style and grace – tripping over my own feet, of course, and almost falling on my face.

Fortunately Ginny is already in the room – and she's alone, sitting at the small desk in the room with a stack of papers in front of her. Her eyes are wide with the shock of my grand entrance. I'm sure that my _elegance_ is truly intimidating. After she takes a moment to process the commotion and deducing that my clumsiness is nothing to be concerned about, she turns back to whatever it is that she is working on. She doesn't say a word. I approach her with caution, trying to expect all the possible reactions I could receive when I tell her.

"Ginny, I really need to talk to you. It's important," I tell her firmly.

"I'm sorry. I still have tons of work to do on this for the _Daily Prophet_ and the deadline is tomorrow," she replies without pausing to look at me. "You're going to need quite the headline to pull me away from this."

I take a deep breath and give her the best headline I've got.

"I had sex with Draco Malfoy."

She spins around in her chair, her eyes wide and her jaw practically unhinged from dropping so fast. "That'll work."

I can immediately tell that my friend is back to herself. She leaps from the chair and drags me to sit next to her on her bed. Her eyes are still wide, but now with concern instead of shock. She holds onto my arm tightly and scans over my body as if checking for signs of damage.

"Are you alright? How are you feeling? Was he nice to you? How did –?"

"Ginny, slow down," I beg her, unable to process all of her questions so quickly. My head is still spinning from the event itself, how am I supposed to answer all of these inquiries about it? "I'm fine. And of course he was nice to me. I know that you don't trust him, but I do."

"I'm trying really hard to be supportive here, Hermione, you must know that."

"I know, Gin."

"But you also have to understand why I have so many reservations about him – after everything that he's done. If you believe that he's changed, then that's great, but I still have the right to be concerned for you."

"I'm appreciative that you care so much about me, but it would mean so much to me if you could also make an effort to be civilized. He means more to me than anything else in my life. I'm so happy right now and I want my best friends to be a part of it."

Ginny holds my hand while she speaks, "Hermione, you're right. As your best friend, I shouldn't have given you such a hard time about this. If he makes you this happy than I should be happy for you. And I _am_ happy for you. I can't guarantee that I can trust him or like him any time soon – if ever – but I promise that I'll try."

"Thanks, Gin." A heavy weight is lifted off of my shoulders as she hugs me. It is such a huge relief to have her support, especially now that my relationship with Draco has taken such a drastic step. At least now I know that I can talk to her openly about the situation. The thought brings my mind back to what the situation really is and my stomach tightens. Ginny seems to feel me tighten in her arms and pulls back to look at me.

"You okay?"

"I'm just worried that having sex with Draco is going to have some consequences."

"What kind of consequences? You're not regretting this already, are you?"

"No, I don't regret what I did or who I did it with, but I can't help but be concerned that the timing wasn't right. You know me. I'm not the type of girl who sleeps with a guy after only dating him for a couple weeks. Hell, I dated Ron for a little over a year and we never slept together."

"So you're worried that the timing wasn't right for you? Or are you just surprised that you would have done it so soon without any time to make one of your pro-con lists?" She raises an eyebrow jokingly at the last question.

"First of all, don't mock my pro-con lists. They have helped us make a lot of very difficult decisions in the past. And second of all, I don't think that there is such a thing as 'the right time for me' when it comes to Draco. I'm confident that as long as I'm with him it will always be right. The only problem is, what if he doesn't think the same way."

Ginny's face wrinkles in confusion. "Why would he be worried about it being too soon? He's the type to sleep with women he hardly knows."

"What I meant was that I'm concerned that because it happened so soon, he's going to get the wrong impression of me. Maybe I'm overreacting? What's the worst impression he could possibly get about me from this?"

"He could think you're a whore," she shrugs.

"I don't want him to think that! I didn't even mean for this to happen. I couldn't help it. I was all worked up because we started fighting and then he just – the point is, I had no intention of sleeping with him so quickly. I just got caught up in the moment."

"That's usually how it happens. Look, Hermione, maybe you should talk to him about this."

"I don't want to seem all insecure."

"Would you rather be constantly worried that he thinks you're a whore? It's probably best for you to ease your mind and tell him how you feel. If you let this bother you, you're going to start pulling away from him. Then he's going to think that you regret it or that he did something wrong. Believe me, plucking up the courage to talk to him about it yourself could save your relationship tons of unnecessary drama."

"I suppose you're right." My stomach twists at the idea of bringing this up in conversation with him. I keep remember how he told me that he wasn't the fairy tale prince, romantic boyfriend type of guy. I wouldn't want to do anything that would make him have second thoughts about giving the boyfriend thing a shot.

"Hermione, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Has Harry known about your feelings for Malfoy all this time? Ever since it started?" she asks, her wide eyes blinking expectantly at me.

I sigh, understanding how hurt she must be that I didn't trust her with what was going on in my personal life. I suppose I haven't been much of a friend lately either. "Yes. In some ways, Harry even helped get us together. And please don't be upset with him. I told him not to tell you… well you and Ron. It's just that Harry was starting to become civilized with Draco, so I thought that he would be more accepting of it. I didn't mean to hurt you by not telling you. I just didn't want you to try to talk me out of being with him."

"I'm disappointed that you thought you had to keep it from me, however, it turned out to be that you were right about how we would react. I understand why you didn't want us to know. But it doesn't matter now. Now that I know, you can tell me everything – preferably something that you won't tell Harry. Let us keep something from him for a change." She winks at me and I can't help but laugh.

"As fun as that sounds, Ginny, I doubt I could. You know that there isn't a single thing that I don't tell Harry. I'm probably still going to tell him everything. But what if I promise to tell you _first_?"

"I guess I can live with that. So, you promise to tell me everything from now on? No matter how you think I'm going to react?"

"I promise. Anything you want to know is an open book."

"I want to know everything. So tell me _everything._" She winks again with a sly smile and this time I don't find it nearly as amusing. I look at her slightly bewildered.

"What?"

"Come on, tell me. How was it? What did he do? I want details. All of them."

I stare at her with wide eyes, realizing that she's serious about her question. I figure that I do sort of owe her for not telling her about my feelings for him and our relationship from the beginning. It can't hurt to indulge her in a little bit of the details. I take a deep breath.

"Well, first he –"


	15. Caught

**Chapter Fifteen: Caught**

Draco Malfoy

I am surprised at the sound of my alarm waking me up early on Monday morning. As I roll over to turn it off, I find my arm draped over the warm skin of another body and my face buried in soft, bushy hair. It takes me a moment to remember. Granger came into my room last night to talk. She was concerned about how my impression of her had changed due to our sleeping together yesterday. We eventually fell asleep. She must have set my alarm to wake her up for work. I feel her sit up and hear the alarm shut off. I force myself to open my eyes. The first sight I see is Granger staring down at me with big round eyes and messy hair.

"Good morning," I whisper groggily, my eyes still heavy with sleep and a goofy smile on my face. I feel like an idiot, but I don't much care.

"Good morning," she returns, reflecting my smile back at me. She reaches over to stroke my hair. She sighs and pulls the covers back to get out of the bed. "I have to get ready for work. Go back to sleep and maybe we can have lunch together during my break."

"Very good," I murmur into the pillow.

"Why don't you meet me at St. Mungo's at one o'clock?" she suggests, standing in the doorway.

I simply nod and watch her close the door behind her before closing my eyes once more. I wrap myself tightly, clutching my blankets underneath my chin, desperate to keep in the warmth and keep out the threat of day. Much to my relief I manage to drift off to sleep again for a few more hours. By the time I wake up it's nearly noon. I know that I only have a short time before I need to be at the hospital to meet Granger for lunch.

I drag myself out of bed and across the hall to the bathroom. I turn on the water as hot as my skin can handle it. I begin to quickly undress. Steam fills the room immediately, fogging up the mirror. I hesitantly slip into the shower, adjusting to the temperature. The water scorches as it drips mercilessly down my body. I feel the heat reverberate throughout the inside of my body causing a pleasant tingling sensation. I rush to wash my hair and body, not wanting to be late. I stand under the water flow for a moment. The worst part of a shower is that moment right before you turn off the water when you know that it's time to leave the warmth of the water and surrender yourself to the cold air. That first burst of cold air on your skin when you're still wet always makes you want to retreat back into the water forever.

Once I'm dressed and satisfied that my hair couldn't possibly be helped, I head downstairs to the dining room. My mother is sitting at the table talking with Cat about how her earlier sessions had gone. Granger told me that her sessions technically ended after we got together, but Mum allowed her to stay while her friends are still here. I walk into the room and sit next to her at the table. She smiles up at me as she continues speaking.

"Blaise is actually making excellent progress," Mum continues telling Cat. "I think he might be fit to go home soon. Ginny is making progress as well, but she still has much to learn. Harry missed his session this morning, however, I'm a bit concerned."

"Has he never missed a session before?" Cat asks curiously, picking at the bowl of fruit in front of her.

"Not once. He's been taking these sessions very seriously. I honestly feel almost overwhelmed with how much he has revealed to me since he's been here."

"Talking about the war?" I mutter, forcing my mind to focus on her answer and not wander into my own thoughts.

"Talking about everything," Mum replies. "He's told me all about what it was like growing up with his aunt and uncle and cousin. He told me all about his first year at Hogwarts: what it was like finding out about magic and who he really is, finding out about his parents, meeting all his new friends, and of course everything that happened in the underground chambers. The Chamber of Secrets, finding out all about his godfather, Sirius, the Triwizard Tournament. It was quite unsettling hearing about the night in the graveyard, of course.

"He told me all about the dreams he was having caused by his connection with the Dark Lord. The battle the ensued in the Department of Mysteries. He explained his point of view about what happened between the two of you in the bathroom in your sixth year. He felt just awful about it. He's told me practically everything that has happened to him since he was a child in detail."

"That had to be stimulating," I say sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact it was. It was truly fascinating to listen to his account of everything that has happened. It's not nearly the same as reading about it in the Daily Prophet. It's clear that he really needed to talk through it all. It's important for him to be able to just go over everything that's happened, more for himself to hear than someone else. The last thing we spoke of together last session was him saying goodbye to his aunt, uncle, and cousin before the war."

"So you haven't even gotten to the fun stuff yet."

"The point is that these sessions are very important to him. He wouldn't skip them without a reason."

"Well, I've got to get to St. Mungo's to meet Granger. But I'll ask her if she's heard from him if you like. Goodbye, Mother."

"Have a great time, darling."

I give both my mother and Cat a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye then head out to the hospital. The lobby is nearly empty when I enter. I greet Camilla, the Welcome Witch, politely and let her know that I am here to see Granger. She kindly instructs me to go up to the Fourth Floor. I thank her and go to the lift. After a few moments, the lift chimes and says, "Fourth Floor: Spell Damage."

The first sight to see after stepping off the lift is a group of wizards in Auror's robes standing outside one of the rooms. I stand there staring, curious as to what is going on. It then processes in my mind that Potter is an Auror and is most likely in that room that the rest of them are guarding. My curiosity grows exponentially. A woman breaks my thought process, walking up to me and resting a hand on my shoulder.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're early," the woman says. "My name is Lorelai Domville. I'm the other Trusted Healer here along with Hermione. She told me that we could be expecting you."

"Ms. Bungard told me I could find her on this floor," I tell Lorelai.

"Camilla was correct. Hermione is in there." She gestures toward the room that is currently being guarded by five or six Aurors.

"What's going on?"

"Mr. Potter told me not to say anything. He says he wants to tell you himself."

"Potter? So he _is_ here. How long have they been in there?"

"About an hour actually. Quite bizarre. I'm sure they'll be out soon enough. Feel free to wait for them wherever you like."

"Um, thank you." I watch her walk away, processing the information I've been given as I stare after her. I unconsciously begin to pace back and forth, occasionally glancing over at the guarded door. I'm growing impatient. It's about twenty minutes before the door finally opens. A few of the guards standing outside go inside as Potter and Granger come out. Granger is busy making notes on a piece of parchment. Potter, however, notices me immediately.

"Draco!" he exclaims, causing Granger to look up from her notes wide-eyed.

"Draco!" she echoes, a large smile spreading across her face. She runs across the floor and throws herself into my arms. As greetings go, it wasn't unpleasant. I smile into her bushy hair and for only a second I forget about the situation I had been so painfully curious of all this time.

"What's going on?" I ask Potter, looking at him over the top of Granger's head. For some reason, the small smile the breaks across his face makes me uneasy.

"We caught him," Potter says. When I simply stare at him he continues. "Lorenzo Cane. We caught him and we are able to prove that he killed Astoria. There's no way for him to get out of this now. We got him."

I stare at the closed door, mouth slightly open. My heart pounds and I can feel the blood surging through my veins. I fight against the burst of anger that threatens to take control of me. The man who killed her is on the other side of that door. I'm actually standing in the same building as the son of bitch who took her life away from her.

"What are you going to do with him?" I ask absent-mindedly.

"Take him to Azkaban – what else would we do with him?"

"They're going to order a Dementor's Kiss, aren't they!? They have to! He fucking killed her, he deserves it!"

"Draco, calm down," Granger begs, holding onto my arm tightly.

"It's not up to me whether or not they give him the Kiss, I'm sorry," Potter apologizes.

"But –" I begin to protest, but he stops me.

"I know how difficult this is for you. Believe me, I do. He killed someone that you cared about and you can never get her back. I know how much you want him to pay for what he did to her and all the pain he has caused you. But it isn't up to us. I'll put in the suggestion, but I can't guarantee that the court will follow through."

"Even if the court decides not to give him the Kiss," Granger says, "at least you know that they've caught him. Astoria's family gets the closure of knowing that he's the one who killed her, Cane will be punished even if not in the way you're hoping, and the world has the comfort of knowing that he can't hurt anyone else anymore."

"Does her family know that you've caught him yet?" I wonder out loud. Potter simply shakes his head. "Can I tell them?"

"Sure." Potter gives me a sympathetic smile. I try to ignore it. No one's sympathy is going to make me feel any better. It won't change anything. She's dead and he's not. That's not fair.

"Hey, Hermione!" Lorelai calls from the doorway of one of the other rooms. "Can I get a hand over here?"

"I'll be right back, then we can go have our lunch if you're still up to it," Granger tells me, reaching up to brush my hair away from my face. She leaves to go assist the other Healer with the patients. Potter and I stand there in silence, staring at the floor.

"Thank you," I finally mumble, still staring down at the perfectly polished floor. I can practically see my reflection in it.

"For what?" Potter's voice seems to pull my gaze up to his face. I seem almost powerless against it. I look into his eyes.

"For keeping your promise." I pause, remember what Granger had told me at the funeral about this case being the only reason he didn't leave his job. "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"Now that you caught him, are you done being an Auror?"

His eyes widen in surprise. Granger obviously didn't tell him that she told me anything. I watch his chest rise as he takes a deep breath. He takes a moment to glance back at the other Aurors guarding Cane's room, then looks back at me.

"Well?" I say impatiently.

"Yeah, I think I'm done being an Auror," he finally answers with a heavy sigh. "I don't want to be caught up in this world anymore. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of chasing criminals, printing out Wanted posters, having to bring innocent people here when our attempts at catching these people puts them in danger. I just don't think that the rare occasion of catching them and putting them away, even though it protects people, is enough for me to stay anymore. Maybe that's selfish."

"I don't think it's selfish, but then again I'm not exactly the one to ask about that sort of thing. I usually choose the selfish route. You've been chasing shadows for, what, ten, maybe eleven years. You haven't gotten a break once to allow yourself to heal. Maybe it's time you let someone else save the world for a change."

"It may not be that easy for me to let go."

"You can't save anybody when you're dead. If you need to take a break to put your life in order then that's what you should do. You can't work yourself to death in a job that's eating away at you because you think it's your job to save everyone all on your own. You need to save yourself this time. Or better yet, let someone else save you."

"It's strange, it looks like you and sounds like you, but that couldn't possibly be Draco Malfoy talking." He laughs quietly, seeming to melt the icy feeling inside of me.

"Sod off, Potter!"

"No, wait, I'm just joking," he says, still laughing, clearly amused with himself. I stand there and watch him as he continues to giggle at himself like a child at a dirty joke. I can't help but admire the moment. People don't laugh as much as they should these days. It's not so easy to find a reason to laugh after everything. His laugh specifically is even more of a rarity than anyone else's. As I listen to him, I realize that I don't remember the last time I laughed. Eventually he calms himself, taking a deep breath and smiling at me.

"Merlin, Potter, it wasn't _that_ funny."

"It wasn't particularly funny at all when you think about it, but for some reason I got a kick out of it."

"Clearly."

"You need more laughter in your life, Draco. It's the only thing that will keep you from losing your mind in all of the tragedy and chaos."

"I'm sure that when something is actually _funny_ I'll laugh," I mock him. Instead of his typical eye roll and glare, he just laughs and shakes his head. Before either of us can say anything else, Granger returns from aiding her patient.

"You ready, Draco?" she asks me cheerfully, grabbing my hand. I smile down at her and nod. Without letting go of my hand, she reaches out with her other arm to hug Potter. "You can join us if you want, Harry."

"Thanks, but I've got something important to take care of at the office," Potter replies, smiling at me.

"You sure?" I say. Granger assumes I am talking about lunch. Potter gives me a knowing look, understanding that I'm asking about whether or not he's going to resign from his position.

"I'm sure. I'll see you both tonight."

"Bye, Harry!" Granger calls after him as he heads toward the lift. We both stare after him. Once he disappears, she turns back to me. "What a morning! So, where do you want to go? Anywhere you want. I suppose we are celebrating in a way, right?"

"I suppose we have a few things that we could be celebrating today."


	16. Letting Go

**Chapter Sixteen: Letting Go**

Hermione Granger

So far it's been a slow Tuesday morning at St. Mungo's hospital. I consider it to be a good sign when we don't have many patients. I also enjoy the free time that I get to sit with the few patients that we do have to simply talk with them. The majority of my morning has been spent in conversation with the patients as well as sitting with Neville. Neville has made a habit of spending an hour or two outside his parents' room in the Janus Thickey Ward once a week. Sometimes I sit with him, but he usually prefers to spend the time alone so he can think. I am thinking about clocking out early when one of the Healers gives me a note telling me that I have a visitor. I go downstairs to the lobby to clock out and meet my visitor. I see Harry standing innocently near the entrance, kicking shyly at the floor.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" I ask, walking quickly up to him and pulling him into a hug. I take notice that he is not wearing his Auror robes. He seems to hold on to me longer than usual before letting go.

"Can we go get a drink and talk?" Harry suggests. I simply nod, linking our arms together and turning us both to leave. I study his face thoroughly out of the corner of my eye, but there are no signs there that anything is wrong with him. I hold on tightly to his arm while we walk over to the Leaky Cauldron in no particular hurry. Harry seems casual and content, lightly kicking at the ground as he walks and looking around to take in all the sights as we pass them by. I, however, am significantly less cavalier as I try to imagine all of the possible topics of conversation that he has in mind.

Harry holds open the door to the Leaky Cauldron, allowing me to step inside ahead of him. He places a hand on my back to guide me to one of the tables. Hannah Abbott, who took over the Leaky Cauldron from Tom not long after the war, comes over to the table to greet us and brings us two butterbeers. She places the two glasses on the table and saunters over to another table of guests. I leave my drink on the table untouched, staring across from me at Harry as I grow increasingly impatient. He sips casually at his butterbeer. I can hear the clock on the wall ticking. I start fidgeting in my seat.

"Okay, that's it!" I snap, leaning forward over the table. His eyes widen as he slowly lowers his glass back to the table. "I have to know what's going on!"

He smiles, taking a deep breath and folding his hands on the table. "Listen, Hermione, I'm not sure how you're going to react to this, but I want you to know before I tell you that my mind is made up and it's already been taken care of."

I take a deep breath of my own, bracing myself. "Just tell me."

"I went to the Auror's office and resigned," he says simply.

"You _what_!?" I exclaim, not caring that a few people turned to stare at us. My mind is struggling to decide on the proper reaction, so I just sit there with my mouth open.

"I decided that it was time to let go of that life, Hermione," Harry explains calmly. "I know that you're concerned that it wasn't a logical decision, but it's something that I needed to do. This job was holding me back. I wasn't going to get better and move on if I stayed there. I jumped into the Auror training immediately after the war and then became an official Auror. I never gave myself time to process everything that happened and do what I needed to do for myself. At first I thought it was selfish of me to take time to do that, but yesterday when Draco said –"

"When Draco said?" I interrupt him. "You talked to Draco about this before you talked to me?"

"I knew you would try to talk me out of it, Hermione. I really needed to do this. It's already done."

"And what exactly do you plan to do now, may I ask?"

"I haven't fully thought that through," he mumbles, staring down into his butterbeer.

"Harry, this is exactly why I didn't think this was a good idea. Now you have no job and no idea what to do with your life. Where are you going to go? You can't live with the Weasleys for the rest of your life."

"I don't know, Hermione! I'll figure it out. But there's more. I've also decided that I need to leave the Burrow."

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "Harry, you have no job. You can't just leave the Burrow and buy your own place!"

"Well, technically I won't be buying my own place just yet."

"So, you have something worked out? You have a place to go?" I take multiple deep breaths, trying not to be concerned. I know that being an Auror was starting to weigh heavily on him, but it's a risk to just leave your job and move out of a safe, loving home where he knows he'll be taken care of. Perhaps I'm being too hard on him, knowing that he deserves time to get over everything that's happened and heal emotionally, but I can't keep myself from looking at this logically. I take a few sips of my butterbeer to try to calm my mind.

"I talked about this with Narcissa during my session this morning. Now before you get upset that I didn't tell you first, I wanted to get as much of this figured out before I confronted you as possible. I know how much you love to think logically about everything, so I wanted to have some answers for you. Narcissa isn't going to be continuing these sessions with everyone for much longer. I'm not ready for that, Hermione. I feel like I'm just starting to piece everything together. Talking it through with her has been working for me."

"So the two of you decided that you would live there so that you could continue to talk to her whenever you needed to," I finish for him, realizing where this was going. I give myself a moment to process the information. At least he has a place to live and he will be doing exactly what he says he needs to be doing, working through his past. I know that he will be taken care of there until he starts a new job. I suppose he has thought this through. "I'm really glad that these sessions have been so helpful for you, Harry. I think it's wonderful that Narcissa is giving you the opportunity to stay and continue your sessions."

"Thanks, me too."

"I'm sorry that I overreacted."

"You don't have to apologize, Hermione. You were concerned. I understand why and you know that I appreciate that you're always looking out for me."

"I'm always going to look out for you, Harry. However, it's important that I'm also looking out for your emotional well-being. You've clearly thought this through. I'm still a little bit concerned about your future, but if you need to work through everything I'm here for you."

He leans back in his seat with a satisfied smile and reaches for his butterbeer. I sigh before reaching for my own and sip at it slowly. It's great to see Harry so happy and content. It's also such a relief that he's making significant steps in letting go of all his pain. I wish that there was more that I could do to help him make sense of his life, but until then all I can do is sit here with him and watch him smile.

Harry clears his throat, an amused smirk appearing on his face as he taps the tip of his fingers on the rim of his glass. "So, Hermione, time to tell me about your personal life."

"What do you mean?" I ask innocently, anticipating his answer with a shy smile down at the table.

"You know exactly what I mean. What's going on with you and Draco?" He gives me a knowing eyebrow raise.

I sigh. "What did Draco already tell you?"

"I think you know what he told me. I want to hear you tell me."

"We are not going to have this conversation, Harry, especially in a public place." I laugh, rolling my eyes at him. "Besides, if Draco already told you what happened – remind me to kill him for that by the way – why do you need to hear it from me?"

"Because I knew that it would make your face turn that unbearable pink from embarrassment."

"So you're making fun of me?"

"I'm your best friend – it's my job to mess with you."

"Well, at least you have some sort of job." I tease, laughing at the shocked reaction on his face. He looks surprised for a moment, then laughs.

These are the moments that the world _should be_ made of - sitting in a pub with your best friend, drinking butterbeers, and laughing at each other's stupid jokes. It makes me appreciate what I have and what I could have lost. I reach across the table and hold Harry's hand. His eyebrows wrinkle in confusion for only a moment before he smiles at me.

"So, you and Ron are spending the day together tomorrow," Harry reminds me. "How does Draco feel about that?"

"He was upset at first," I tell him, remembering the fight we had, forcing myself not to blush at the memory of what followed. "But he came around. I know that he doesn't like Ron and he'd prefer that I wasn't spending the entire day alone with him – but he's being as understanding as he can be."

"What are the chances that you can convince Ron to be just as understanding?"

I sigh, thinking hard about my answer. "It's not my job to convince Ron to understand. You know how much I wish he would support me. But I really love Draco and I can't let Ron ruin it for me. I'll try to talk to him, of course, but I shouldn't be surprised if he doesn't immediately let go of this rivalry."

"I admit, part of me can't blame him for holding a grudge."

"I haven't forgotten what Draco did, Harry. I know that Ron has plenty of reason to hold a grudge against him. It's just that –" I shake my head, pausing a moment to carefully choose my words before speaking, " – you and I were both able to put it behind us. Why can't Ron?"

"I couldn't tell you. It almost seems like Ron hates Draco even more now that you and I are on good terms with him than he was before."

"Well, you know how jealous he can get. We haven't exactly been giving him much attention since we moved into Malfoy Manor. It can't hurt for us to spend some time with him and let him know that he hasn't been replaced. I'm just hoping that there's something that I can say tomorrow that will help the situation."

"Even if tomorrow doesn't work out the way you're hoping, I'm sure that he'll come around eventually. He probably just needs time to get used to the fact that the two of you are together. Maybe if he sees for himself that Draco is treating you right and making you happy, he'll be able to let go of this rivalry – whether it's because he believes Draco's changed or simply out of support for you as his friend."

"We can only hope."

I try not to think about the idea that things tomorrow won't go the way that I'm hoping. Having Ron come around to my relationship with Draco is extremely important to me. Our friendship may never be the same as it was before – but that it to be expected when best friends start dating and then break up. Draco is the first person that I've dated since Ron and I broke up, so there's no way for me to know if his hostile reaction is based solely on his bad blood with Draco alone or if it has something to do with our past relationship. Just like I told Harry – we all know how jealous Ron can get. Although I want to believe that Ron can be mature enough not to let our history get in the way of our friendship.

Harry and I finish our butterbeers and go for a walk through Diagon Alley. He can't resist stopping by the Quidditch Supplies shop. I don't really have an interest in Quidditch, but I always indulge Harry and look around the shop with him whenever we are in Diagon Alley. Just as I indulge Harry in the Quidditch Supplies shop, he indulges me in all the bookshops. We even pass back through the Leaky Cauldron to explore the bookshops along Charing Cross Road. Harry and I spent almost two hours sitting on the floor of one of the bookshops with tall piles of books stacking in a circle around us. Harry spent most of that time looking through the Quidditch book that he bought while occasionally showing interest in one of the books I picked out.

Harry always made teased me for constantly having a book with me and always going to the library, but he secretly enjoys the luxury of reading – maybe not to the extent I do, but he can get lost in a book himself sometimes. There is something about a book. When I open the cover it's like getting transported to another place. Suddenly all the troubles of my world disappear and I'm living in someone else's world. I allow myself to become emotionally invested as I make new friends and experience new adventures page by page. Every day is a new book, a new world, a new group of friends, a new lesson to learn, and a new problem to solve. There's nothing else like it.

After realizing how much time has gone by, Harry and I sort through the books I collected and put them back where they belong. We walk back to Diagon Alley before Apparating back outside the gate to Malfoy Manor. We take our time to walk up the long walkway to the door, our arms linked.

"So, Harry, are you sure you're alright with keeping Draco company tomorrow?" I ask. "I mean, I don't want you to feel obligated. I just suggested it because I figured you would both be home and it would take Draco's mind off of the fact that I'm with Ron."

Harry simply laughs. "Hermione, I already told you that I have no problem babysitting your boyfriend tomorrow."

"I did _not_ say babysitting! Don't say babysitting! He'll kill me if you told him I said babysitting!"

He just continues to laugh at me, pulling open the front door and holding it open for me. We go back into the dining room. Draco and Blaise are playing chess at the table. Cat is sitting next to Draco, petting Crookshanks who is sitting on her lap watching the boys move the chess pieces across the board. I move around the room to sit on Draco's other side and wrap my arms around him. He smiles but doesn't take his eyes off of the chessboard.

"How was your day?" he mutters, using his knight to capture Blaise's bishop.

"Wonderful," I reply, smiling at Harry. "We went to visit a couple bookshops."

"Uh oh," Draco laughs.

"_A couple bookshops_?" Harry scoffs. "Try _every _bookshop. I dare you to find a single book that she hasn't looked through by now."

Draco and Harry both laugh. I simply shake my head, rolling my eyes.

"You're exaggerating – a little. Besides, I lost count of how much time I spent following you around the Quidditch Supplies shop."

"What!?" Draco finally looks up from the chessboard, staring wide-eyed at Harry. "You went to the Quidditch Supplies shop!? Oh, _come on_!"

Harry laughs. "We can go back tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Draco's eyebrows furrow in confusion for a moment then he looks to me. I can't hide the slightly guilty expression on my face and suddenly he remembers. "Oh. Right. Tomorrow."

"I'm sure you two will have fun tomorrow, Draco," I assure him, trying to keep Ron out of the topic of conversation. "Besides, there seemed to be all kinds of new stuff at the shop when we were there. You'll have plenty to do."

"I suppose I'm going to be spending far more money tomorrow than will please my father when he finds out," Draco mumbles, making his next move. "Checkmate."

Blaise sighs heavily, frowning down at the outcome of the game.

"I'm going to go break the news to Ron and Ginny," Harry tells me. "Draco, I'll see _you_ tomorrow for a very long day."

"Can't wait," Draco says sarcastically. "See you tomorrow."


	17. Catty Remarks

**Chapter Seventeen: Catty Remarks**

Draco Malfoy

Granger wakes me up on Wednesday morning to say goodbye to me before she leaves. I groan, reluctant to be pulled out of precious sleep. I refuse to open my eyes, but I smile at the feeling of her lips pressing against my forehead. I reach my arms out to grab hold of her. She laughs into my neck, eliciting a laugh from me. I hold her there for a long moment before letting her go, wishing that she wasn't just about to leave me to spend the day with my least favourite person alive.

"Draco, I have to go," she insists, pulling away from me.

"Come on, Ace," I mumble groggily. "You almost never get a day off. Stay here."

"We talked about this. I promise the next day off that I get will be all yours. But today I really have to go. You'll have fun with Harry, don't worry."

I sigh. "Fine. I'll see you tonight?"

"Of course." She gives me a long, soft kiss that stops my heart before disappearing from the room. It takes me a moment to catch my breath. There's no way I can fall back asleep after that. I lay there in a haze then drag myself out of the bed. I open my closet and pull out some clothes and carry them to the bathroom to take my shower. When I walk past Potter's bedroom, the door is cracked open and he can be seen still asleep in his bed. I take a quick shower and head back to my room. I hear a strange noise coming from my closet which I had left open.

I go over to my closet to investigate. Granger's cat is rummaging through the contents of a box that he knocked over. I notice him playing with one of the spare buttons for my coat, but before I can grab it he snatches it up in his mouth. He starts choking on it, so I immediately pick him up. I know there's a spell to clear his airway, but I can't remember it. Of course, I figured I would never need to use it so I didn't care to memorize it. I take the cat and burst into Potter's room, scaring him out of his deep sleep. He reaches for his glasses and looks around wildly.

"Potter, help me! You have to help me! You have to fix it!" I babble frantically, holding the cat in front of his face. The cat is still making soft coughing sounds. "Crookshanks was messing around in the closet and swallowed something! Now he's choking! What's the spell to clear his airway!? Why can't I remember it!? You have to do something!"

"What are y-"

"You have to do something! There are a lot of ways that I can ruin this relationship, but I am not going to lose her because I killed her hideous cat! Fix it!" I shove the cat in his face.

He quickly reaches for his wand and points it at the cat. "Anapneo."

The cat violently coughs once more, causing the spare button to fall to the floor next to the bed. He shakes his head around then simply jumps off the bed and trots off. I stare off after him in disbelief. She leaves me alone for a few minutes and already something goes terribly wrong. Before the thought fully forms in my mind, I run back into my room and slam the closet door shut. I definitely don't need a replay of that anytime soon. I turn around to see Potter standing in my doorway, his hair sticking up all over the place as he rubs his eyes.

"I'm awake now," he mutters grumpily.

"Um, yeah, sorry about that. But since you're awake you might as well get dressed. I have some serious Quidditch-related shopping to do today."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say this whole fiasco with Crookshanks was just a ploy to get me out of bed so we could leave."

"Oh, please, Potter. Give me a little credit. There are much more creative ways to wake you up than almost killing an innocent animal."

"Whatever. I'm taking a shower. Try not to kill anyone until I'm done."

I sneer at the back of his head as he shuffles sleepily back down the hallway toward the bathroom. I finish getting ready to leave and then step out into the hall. Crookshanks is pawing at the bathroom door. I stand there staring at the pathetic image for a moment before walking over to him. I sit on the floor, leaning back against the bathroom door, and pull the cat onto my lap. I listen to the sound of the water running behind me as I stroke his soft fur.

I continue to pet him absentmindedly as I get lost in thought. This is definitely something I catch myself doing a lot lately. My mind seems to be a dark world all of its own that I'm constantly getting lost somewhere deep within. A blackhole that pulls me in without mercy and won't release me. A complete mystery with no way to solve it. Sometimes I come across things in my own mind that I don't recognize, as if the memories and thoughts belong to someone else. But I can never resist the allure of what I may find. I take the hand of the stranger and allow him to lead me into the darkness, never knowing where he will take me.

I am only pulled back into reality's light by the squeaking of the faucets in the bathroom as the water turns off. I realize that it might look a bit strange that I'm sitting outside the bathroom, but there's no time to move. Potter opens the bathroom door. I can feel the heat tumbling out of the room as the steam drifts out into the hallway. I twist my head around to look up at Potter, who is staring down at me with a furrowed brow.

"What are you doing?" Potter asks, his tone suggesting that I've completely lost my mind.

I laugh, realizing how it must look to him. I clutch the cat close to my chest as I stand up. "Um, I was just petting the cat. I feel he deserves it after the trauma he experienced earlier."

Potter laughs at me, shaking his head as he turns to go back to his room. I carry the cat with me as I follow him. I lean against the door frame, scratching the cat behind the ears, as I watch Potter. He dries his hair with his wand, but does not bother to comb it. He ruffles his hair with his hand and leaves it at that. I laugh to myself at his trademark unkempt hair. As he sits on the floor and he pulls his shoes on, he glances up and notices me watching him.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing," I reply quickly. I try to focus on something else, but I keep coming back to him. I continue to stare at him, imagining where we were many years before. I remember holding my hand out to him – his hair still disheveled, his clothes far too large for him, and his broken glasses taped together – and he rejected it without a second thought. Now I look down at him as he finishes tying his laces and, in my eyes, he hasn't changed much at all. I put the cat down and walk over to him. I hold out my hand to him once more. He stares up at me for a moment before taking it, allowing me to help pull him up from the floor. We stare at each other for an awkward moment.

"Ready to go?" He gestures toward the door behind me. I nod, following him out. We Apparate to Diagon Alley. We walk in silence until we reach the sign that says _Quality Quidditch Supplies_. My heart lifts at the sight of the window display. My father and I never did many activities together, so I always hold on to the memory of him teaching me how to fly and going to Quidditch matches together. We head inside and the owner immediately comes out of the back room at the sound of the bell on the door chiming.

"Ah, Harry!" the owner exclaims. "Back again, I see! Two days in a row!"

"Well, you know me, I just can't stay away," Potter says politely.

"Anything in particular I can help you young men find today?"

"Not this time, but we'll let you know."

The owner gives each of us a polite nod and disappears into the back room once more. I take a moment to admire the new broom display. Potter wanders off to another corner of the shop. I examine the newest broomstick model. The owner comes back out from the back room and takes notice of my admiration. He appears by my side.

"Isn't this one a beauty?" he says. "The Nimbus Racing Broom Company never seems to disappoint, do they? This one is the Nimbus Storm. The Storm here has an acceleration of one hundred and seventy miles per hour in ten seconds with revolving stirrups and an unbreakable charm. It even comes with its own special Broomstick Servicing Kit that is specific to this model. It doesn't get much better than this. I'd get one for myself if it wasn't such a heavy price."

He takes another moment to admire the broom before walking off to talk to Potter. The shaft of the broom is sleek and black with an eccentric, silver design spiraling all around the length to the end and shimmering silver stirrups. The head of the broom is made up of long bristles that are straight and smooth. The bristles are silver but fade into a vibrant blue at the tips. Potter shows up with the owner at my side.

"Very impressive," Potter remarks. "This sign says you can even get them in different colours?"

"Only the tips of the bristles," the owner says. "Blue is the official colour, but you can pay extra to customize it if you wish."

"I think blue is the perfect colour for it. It looks great. Don't you think so, Draco?"

"I want one," I say simply, more thinking out loud than actually speaking to anyone.

"It's quite expensive, young man," the owner warns.

"It doesn't matter," I tell him, turning to face him. "I want one."

"Very well. Would you like me to charge it to your family's account?"

"Yes, sir. And make it green instead." I look back at the broom proudly as the owner walks off.

"Um, don't you think you should have talked to your father first? How are you going to explain such a large purchase to him?" Potter says.

"Father will be fine with it, Potter," I assure him. "I've known him my whole life. I know how to handle this. Besides, I want one. If Father were here he would have insisted on buying it for me."

"If you say so," he mutters, glancing at the broom. "It is rather exquisite I suppose."

I watch him for a long moment as he admires the broomstick. "I'll be right back. I'm going to make sure he has all of the proper account information."

"Alright, I'll be here."

I walk over to the owner, who is wrapping up a green version of the new broomstick. "Can you have this sent to the manor for me?"

"Of course, sir," the owner smiles politely.

"Thank you. I would like you to do the same with a blue one."

The owner regards me with wide eyes. "You want two of them? Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Alright, both brooms and service kits will be at your house by the end of the day. They have been successfully charged to your family account."

I walk back over to where Potter is standing. We both take one last look around the shop before making our way back out onto Diagon Alley. Potter leads me to the large and brightly coloured shop with the sign reading _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_. I had always heard about all of the things that were sold in this shop, but because it was owned by the Weasleys I didn't feel comfortable going inside. I follow closely behind Potter as he wonders through the shop.

"Ah, Harry!" a voice says from above. We both look up to see the one remaining Weasley twin standing on an upstairs landing in a magenta robe. "Been a while since I've seen you in here. See you brought a guest."

"Hello, George," Potter says cheerfully. "Draco and I were just over at the Quidditch supplies shop and I thought he'd like to check out your place."

"Well, come on up and I'll give you the grand tour." Potter leads me up the staircase to the landing. George, who I never would have known the name of if Potter hadn't said it, gestures to the rest of the shop. The entire shop is easily visible from up here. "Well, let's see. There are some Canary Creams if you feel like turning into a canary or it comes in handy for getting someone else out of your way for a time if you can trick them into eating it. Extendable Ears – a must have for all professional eavesdroppers. Perhaps a Portable Swamp. Trick wands are always entertaining."

"What do they do?" I ask as I gawk at the shop. There are objects all around the room of bright colours, some flying around the room, others making loud noises.

"Wave the wand and it will turn into something else. Can't tell ya what it'll turn into though. Over there are some Punching telescopes –"

"Hermione won't ever let you forget that one," Potter laughs.

"I tried to warn her," George says, then continues pointing to different products around the shop. "Over there are some of our quills. There are Smart-Answer Quills, Self Inking Quills, and Spell Checking Quills – but they don't always work how you'd expect."

"Doesn't seem like anything in here works as one would expect," I mutter over all the noise.

"Well isn't that the point?" George says, proudly looking over the shop.

"What is that section over there?" I point to a section just below the landing.

"Oh, those just a few defence items. You know, Decoy Detonators, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, objects that are incorporated with a Shield Charm, the basics. And if you look over there, that's where the Love Potions and Pygmy Puffs are. I hear our very own Hermione has got a bit of a Love Potion effect on you, Mr. Malfoy." George raises an eyebrow at me, accompanied by a knowing smile.

"Who told you that?" I ask, glaring at Potter.

"Ron," George says unexpectedly. "Little brother was in here just the other day raving about it."

"Are you still trying to convince him to join you here at the shop?" Potter inquires, thankfully changing the subject away from my relationships.

"Yeah, but the git insists that he wants to continue being an Auror." George shakes his head and shrugs. "Seems he can't get that idea of yours out of his head. But hey, I hear you managed to break free of the long list of Ministry employees."

"My resignation was made official yesterday. How did you hear?"

"Oh, everyone's been talking about it. Ministry must have let it slip that the famous Harry Potter was leaving his job. I bet Hermione wasn't too keen on this plan of yours."

"She put up a bit of a struggle, but she came around."

"You happy with this decision then, are you?"

"Very happy. I'm confident that this was the right choice for me. Sorry that I can't convince Ron to do the same for you."

"Well, he's the one who is missing out, isn't he? Hey, Harry, if you ever feel like coming and working here you always have a job. You definitely earned a place here after getting the whole thing started and all."

"Thanks, George, I'll think about it."

I am only half listening to their conversation at this point. I continue to look around the shop. An object nearly hits me as if flies through the air. There are large barrels of sweets scattered throughout the shop. There are large lollipops that look delicious, but I am sure that they have some sort of tragic outcome when eaten, so I keep my distance. I move to get a closer look at one of the nearby barrels. My stomach flips uncomfortably.

"Hey, Malfoy, find something interesting?" George says, coming up behind me. "Oh, those. They're called Edible Dark Marks. Not the most creative name, I know. Erm, sorry, I must have forgotten they were there."

"It's fine, i-it doesn't matter," I force out, staring at the disturbingly shaped candy. I turn to look at Potter, knowing he can read the expression on my face. "I think I want to go home now."


	18. Double Birthday

**Chapter Eighteen: Double Birthday**

Hermione Granger

It's been relatively slow this warm Tuesday morning at St. Mungo's. I put Lorelai in charge and take the rest of the day off to get back the Malfoy Manor and get ready for the party. We have all decided to have one big party to celebrate both Harry and Neville's birthdays. Even though Harry's birthday is tomorrow, he is happy to have the party on Neville's birthday instead, so we are having the party tonight. I make my way back to the manor to get ready and take a quick shower. I stand in front of my closet with the towel wrapped around my body. There's a soft knock on my door and Draco walks in.

"Well, this isn't exactly the outfit I would have planned for a party, but I have no objection to it all the same," Draco jokes, gesturing toward the towel.

"I'm not going to wear a towel to the party!" I shove him back gently. I rummage through all of the clothes hanging in my closet, trying to find something that is appropriate for the occasion. I give Draco another quick glance, taking in his typical all black style. His black jeans and black dress shirt give him the perfect combination of dressy and casual – perfect for the occasion. He even left the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. I sigh, looking back at my closet.

"Do you need some help?" Draco walks up close behind me, reaching his arms around me to file through the different options. I instinctively lean back against him as I wait for him to choose something. Eventually he pulls out a knee-length, light blue, strapless dress with white flowers embroidered around the bottom. "There. Wear this."

"How did you do that? I've been staring at this closet for fifteen minutes and you walk in and immediately find something perfect."

"You were just overthinking it, that's all. Now, come on, we're going to be late."

I stand there holding the dress, realizing that he has no intention of leaving the room while I get dressed. My face feels warm as I suddenly feel very self-conscious. He sits down on Ginny's bed to pet Crookshanks while I quickly pull on a pair of underwear before he has a chance to see me. I turn away from him and unwrap the towel, placing it on my own bed. I can feel his eyes burning into my back. I grab the dress and pull it on over my head. I pull the dress all the way on and smooth it out. Bracing myself to make eye contact with him, I turn around to face Draco. I roll my eyes at the grin on his face. I pull on some white flats to finish off the outfit and stand in front of him.

"Well?" I hold my arms out so that he can examine me properly.

"You look wonderful. I have exceptional taste."

I roll my eyes at him again. Cat walks into the room and of course she looks as beautiful as always. Her burgundy hair is hanging down over her shoulders in large curls. Her white mini dress flares out in ruffles at the bottom and is accessorized with a thick black belt wrapped around her waist. She adds more style with her black heels and the white flower pinned in her hair.

"Hey!" Cat sings cheerfully, a wide grin gracing itself upon her face. "Hermione, you look so pretty! I love that dress!"

"You're welcome," Draco hisses at me teasingly with a devilish smirk.

"Oh, Draco, Harry is looking for you," Cat says. She turns back to poke her head out into the hallway. "Harry, I found him!"

Harry appears in the doorway within a few seconds. He shuffles into the room looking exceptionally handsome in a pair of blue jeans and a royal blue dress shirt. He manages to give me a quick glance and a smile before turning to Draco.

"So, I just found a brand new broomstick on my bed," Harry tells him pointedly. "Do you care to explain that?"

"Well, it was probably on your bed because it's yours," Draco explains nonchalantly.

"You bought me a new broomstick!? Draco, those things are expensive! You know that I can't possibly accept such a –"

"Potter, you saved my life. I hardly think that a broom even comes close to the proper payoff for such a debt. Besides, my family can afford it and you lost your old one during one of the battles of the war anyway. It's about time you had a new one. I'm sure your flying skills are a bit rusty by now."

"Draco, it's too much."

"It's your birthday, you should get something extravagant. It means a lot to me to get this for you. Please accept it." Draco's voice is pleading, along with his eyes.

"But –" Harry shifts his weight back and forth uncomfortably.

"Come on, we can even play our own games of Quidditch whenever since you're going to be staying here longer. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Harry stares at Draco in silence for a long moment, considering his options. He can either accept the lavish gift that he secretly wants and adores or he can refuse it once again and listen to another round of Draco's persistent debating. Draco certainly won't give up until Harry agrees to take the broom. Harry releases a long, heavy sigh, causing a hopeful expression to materialize on Draco's face.

"I still think it's far too much," Harry mutters in defeat, but Draco ignores him and cheers for his own victory.

"Wonderful! We'll have to test them out as soon as we get the chance!" Draco seems genuinely excited about the idea. I doubt I will ever understand what either of them sees in flying – it makes me feel light-headed just thinking about it.

"We'll embark on that adventure tomorrow," Harry agrees, "but right now we should probably try not being late."

"Only Harry Potter would show up late to his own party."

"Hey, it's Neville's party, too. I'm sure he can handle it without me until I get there. Although it still wouldn't be a good idea to show up late for a friends party either."

We all file out of the room, joining Ron and Ginny by the front door, and head out to the party. We all Apparate to the destination and as we make our way to the ballroom, the sounds of heels clicking echoes all throughout the corridor of the building. Harry pushes open the double doors to the ballroom and we are all immediately confronted with the enormity of the event. There are large crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling around the room with white and blue streamers draped across all of them. All of the tables set up on the right side of the room have unconventional flower displays as centerpieces, each table with its own specific colour scheme and design.

The table that has been set up along the wall for the food has a beautiful display of sweets. There is a large cake that is shaped and decorated to look like the Gryffindor House Crest. On the left side of the cake is a small section specific to Harry. There is a tray of cookies that are shaped and decorated to look like lightning bolts to match his scar, Golden Snitches, broomsticks, and Wizard's Chess pieces. There is also a small display of Harry's favourite Wizard sweets. There is a similar display for Neville on the right side of the cake with his favourite sweets and a tray of cookies that are shaped and decorated to look like various flowers and plants as a symbol of Neville's love for Herbology.

The best thing about the food display is another candy section. Next to the table is a large statue that is made as a smaller version of Hogwarts Castle. All of the little openings have snacks hidden within them. The Black Lake is filled with a type of juice with a small ladle resting inside and a stack of cups that are stacked upside-down on top of one of the castle's towers. The courtyards are being used as bowls to hold candy in. The rest of the castle's towers are the tops cut off and things sitting inside of them. One of the towers has some melted chocolate in one of them that can be used to dip the other candy in.

The decorations are beautiful and the music is a fast tempo. There are a lot of people dancing, some people sitting at the tables, some people standing around talking, and some people playing with the samples of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products that George brought to help liven up the party. Ginny runs off to dance with Hannah, Padma, and Parvati. Ron heads straight for the food table. Draco and Cat, not really comfortable with any of the other guests, stick close to me and Harry. We all head over to a table where Neville, Seamus, and Dean are talking.

"Hey, look who's here!" Seamus shouts to be heard over the music. "Hiya, Harry! Cuttin' it pretty close, don't ya think?"

"I know, I'm a little late," Harry apologizes. "And hello to you, too, Seamus. Dean. Happy Birthday, Neville."

"Yes, Happy Birthday, Neville!" I cheer, giving him a friendly hug.

"Thanks, guys," Neville says kindly, hugging me back. "And Happy early Birthday, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry says. "This is quite the event. Our friends never disappoint, huh, Neville?"

All the boys laugh, looking around the room. A few of the Weasley fireworks go off over in the corner of the room, followed by an outburst of laughter. Neville stands up once he notices the extra two guests standing quietly in the background. I give him a knowing look, silently explaining that Draco's presence here is a good thing. He simply responds with a smile before turning his attention to the blond, holding his hand out to him.

"Hello, Draco," Neville greets him politely. "Glad you could make it."

After a slight moment of hesitation, Draco shakes Neville's hand. "Honoured to be here. Happy Birthday, Lon- Neville."

Neville smiles at Draco's stumble with what to call him but doesn't say anything. Instead, he gestures toward Cat, who is bouncing up and down in her spot to the music. "I don't believe we've ever met before."

Cat's attention snaps to Neville, surprised for a moment to have been addressed. She takes a moment to process his words before responding. "Oh! No, we haven't. My name's Cat. Cat Price."

"Nice to meet you, Cat. I'm Neville Longbottom. You must be living at Malfoy Manor, too?"

"Oh, yes, Narcissa's been so lovely. It's a shame that we'll all be going back home the day after tomorrow."

Neville looks mildly surprised, glancing between me and then Harry. "Oh, so you guys are going home soon? That was fast. Didn't you just move in there at the beginning of last month?"

"Yeah, we did," I answer. "We moved in on the first of June and we move out on the first of August. Well, except for Harry."

"I've decided to stay there a while longer while I get things figured out," Harry explains before anyone has a chance to ask. He avoids the look on Seamus's face. Before any of them can retort, Hannah skips over to us and wraps her arms around Neville.

"Hey, are you ready to dance yet?" Hannah asks him, tugging on his arm. "I promise I'll try not to embarrass you too much."

"Han, you could never embarrass me," Neville says sweetly. I can't fight back the smile that tugs at my lips at the sight of them as Hannah pulls Neville out onto the dance floor just in time for a slow song to start playing. Ginny runs over and drags Harry into a dance. He trips and stumbles, but she holds him steady. Seamus and Dean, having no interest in slow dancing, go over to check out the Weasley products in the corner. Draco and I sit down at the empty table. I watch Cat as she wanders across the room to Luna, who is swaying back and forth to the music by herself. I laugh to myself at how alike they are and expect them to become great friends.

"This place really looks beautiful, doesn't it?" I say, admiring the turn out.

"Very," Draco mutters, seemingly distracted.

"Are you sure you're okay to be here? I know that you aren't friends with most anybody here and I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I just know how much it means to Harry to have you here. Besides, if you weren't here I would be sitting at this table by myself and that would look a bit pathetic."

"It's not that at all, I don't mind being here."

"Then what's wrong?"

"It's just – I couldn't help but notice you watching them just now." He gestures toward Neville and Hannah, who are dancing closely in the middle of the floor.

"They're my friends. I'm merely being happy for them."

"I'm a bit worried that you feel like you're missing out on things like that."

"On things like what? Dancing?"

"No, not dancing. Just this sweet-talk, lovey-eyed, relationship business that they seem to have going over there. I don't want to keep you from that kind of relationship if that's what you want and I –"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there. Draco, you told me when we first got together that you weren't the romantic, flower-buying, 'I-love-you' type of guy. I knew that going into this and I am happy with the way things are. I don't need that public display of affection and you telling me that you love me all the time for me to be happy with you. Do I hope that one day you'll be able to tell me that you love me, at least once in a while – of course I do. But I'm not asking you to suddenly become a romantic. I think that Neville and Hannah are adorable and I'm so happy for them, but that doesn't mean that I need to have a relationship exactly like theirs."

"Are you sure?"

I lean over the table and kiss him softly in reply. I then stand up and move to sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I promise, Draco, that this is what I want."

He sits there silently, staring down at the floor in deep thought. I wait patiently for him to think through whatever is going through his mind while I watch Harry attempt to dance. Ginny laughs and simply rests her head against his chest. They slow down until they are basically just standing there together swaying from side to side.

"I hope I'll be able to say it one day, too," Draco finally whispers softly. It takes me a minute to understand what he means. _I love you_. He hopes? Does that mean that he wants to say it? "I know that you deserve to hear it, but it's not that easy for me to say. I hope that someday I will figure out how to say it, but I just want you to know that when I don't – it's not because I don't want to."

I smile and lean against him, my head resting on his shoulder. That was practically the same as saying I love you anyway. "Don't worry, Draco. You've said enough."

I suppose I haven't really given saying I love you that much thought. I can't blame Draco for finding it such a difficult thing to say. I mean, saying I love you means a lot and I want him to feel comfortable saying it. More importantly, I want him to say it because he means it and not because he thinks that I need to hear it. And I can't help but think that everything that's happened between him and Astoria contributes greatly to the inner struggle that those three words bring up within him. It must be difficult to think that you love someone and then be betrayed by them so suddenly. The idea of saying I love you only to be hurt by that person is terrifying.

There is another fast song playing and the disaster that is Harry's dancing only becomes more noticeable. I can't control myself and laugh loudly. Draco follows my gaze and his own laughter echoes mine. I know that it is probably mean to laugh and Harry is my dearest friend, but there is only so much that I can take of his dancing before I have to indulge myself in the hilarity. Part of me wishes that I could cast some sort of spell on him to make him dance well. Eventually another slow song starts and he seems a bit more at ease. Draco pulls me off of his lap and stands up, holding his hand out to me.

"Hermione Granger, may I have this dance?"


	19. Potter's Present

**Chapter Nineteen: Potter's Present**

Draco Malfoy

Potter and I get back from testing our new brooms. There is nothing more freeing than flying. We spent about three hours doing everything possible – racing each other all the way around the manor, swerving through the three Quidditch hoops my father set up for me in the yard, and showing off as many fancy moves and tricks as we could without falling off our brooms. Only after we had exhausted ourselves to our limits, did we finally agree to come back to the ground and go inside. We stumble into the kitchen, desperate for some water. We each down an entire glass of water without taking a breath. I lean back against the counter and watch him as he attempts to catch his breath.

"Aren't you glad I made you take the broom?" I say proudly, the large smile on his face answering my question before he even has a chance to speak.

"Alright, alright, you win," he admits, shaking his head at me.

"So, that was some party you had yesterday." I try to make conversation as I refill both of our glasses. He takes a long sip of his water before responding.

"Yeah, they really went all out for that one. Especially the miniature model of the castle. Not to mention the food was particularly incredible."

"I probably ate forty of those cookies that were shaped like Wizard's chess pieces."

"Merlin, those things were _good_."

We both laugh. Despite having eaten so many of those cookies, I probably burned off all the calories from them just by walking back and forth between our table and the cookie tray. I'm surprised that I didn't spend the entire rest of the night in a sugar coma.

"Those are quite colourful characters you have for friends as well."

"They're all incredible people," Potter assures me. "You seemed to handle yourself really well with them. You were getting along with them."

I shrug, taking a slow sip of water. "I guess, with Longbottom at least."

"One person is at least a step in the right direction. Besides, I'm not saying that you have to like all of them just because I do or Hermione does. We just think it would be easier for you to make some friends with them so you're more comfortable whenever you have to spend time with all of us in a group."

"Does that mean I should expect to do things like that on a regular basis?"

"That's up to you. Although, I must say I was really glad that you were there with us yesterday. I would be lying if I said that I don't want you to continue being around." Potter avoids making eye contact with me as he says this, as if he feels uncomfortable admitting that after everything that's happened he actually wants me around. I feel a little uncomfortable at the confession myself. Of course, I'm glad that he wants me around. Who wants to be told that someone doesn't want them around? But it's still odd trying to get used to the new balance of our relationship. Potter looks back at me, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, where did you learn to dance like that?"

"Oh, growing up in the world I did, there are constantly social parties, charity events, business parties – it's expected for everyone to get all dressed up, drink champagne while making pointless small talk, and slow dancing. I learned how to dance at a very young age, which is _definitely_ more than I can say for you. What the hell was up with you?"

"I'm not the best dancer, alright? Let it go."

I laugh loudly. "Not the _best dancer_? Not the _best_? You're not even second best. Or third. Or fourth. Or –"

"Okay! I get it! Shut up!" he snaps at me, but still manages an embarrassed laugh. "I never had anyone teaching me how to dance. Besides, it's not like I need to dance on a regular basis."

"If you plan to spend more time around my family, you're going to start dancing on a regular basis. And in front of people who aren't anything like your little friends."

"Thanks for making me feel better. Can we talk about something other than my dancing skills or lack thereof please?"

"Alright, how about your birthday present?"

"The broomstick? What about it?"

"Not _that_ present. Your other present."

"_What_ other present?" He looks at me with confusion. I set my glass of water down on the counter and grab his arm, dragging him out of the kitchen with me. I pull him upstairs and into the attic. The attic is lit only by the small rays of sunlight shining in through the small windows. There are strange objects and heavy boxes in multiple piles scattered all around the room. Dust is blanketing everything and thickening the air. There are cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and intricately designed spider webs stretching across the high corners of the walls. I crouch a bit so that I don't hit my head on the ceilings as I move through the attic.

_Thud!_

"Ow!" Potter exclaims, banging his head roughly on the ceiling. He crouches down beside me, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. "What are we doing up here?"

Ignoring his question, I continue to move all of the boxes around so that I can get to the large trunk underneath. I cough as I inhale all of the dust being kicked up into the air as I toss the boxes to the side. I finally uncover the trunk that I've been looking for. Last time I checked up here, there was nothing sitting on top of this trunk, now suddenly it's buried underneath a mountain of dusty, cardboard boxes. I sigh in frustration, but shake it off in the relief that I've finally uncovered it. I brush all the dust from the trunk, revealing the silver, shimmering initials S.S. Potter kneels down next to me as I unlatch the trunk and push the top open.

"What is this?" Potter asks, peering into the trunk.

"After Severus Snape died, his stuff was left to us because we were the closest thing to a family that he had. My parents sold or gave away most of it, but anything that I wanted to keep I stashed away in this trunk. It's mostly just books and a few knick-knacks."

Potter reaches into the trunk and shuffles through some of the old books. "These are great. But what does Snape's old stuff have to do with me?"

"I found a hidden compartment in the lid right here," I say, pulling open the compartment and catching the envelope that falls out. "I found this inside and thought you might want it."

I hand Potter the envelope and watch him take it hesitantly. He stares at it for a long moment before opening it with trembling hands. He turns the envelope over and allows the contents to fall out onto his lap. He picks up the stack of letters and examines them, his mouth slightly agape. He scans over a few of the letters between Snape and his mother before putting them down. He picks up the small stack of photographs of woman with long, dark red hair and stunningly bright green eyes. With eyes like those, there is no mistaking that she was Potter's mother.

"Mum?" Potter whispers at the photographs, blinking repeatedly to fight back the tears that are so clearly burning in his eyes. I force myself not to say anything, but instead to just give him a moment to process what he is seeing. "Snape had these pictures of my mother? Why are you giving them to me?"

"Well, she's _your_ mother, so you should have them. It wouldn't be right for me to keep them from you. Besides, I'm sure that Snape would rather them be admired by you than buried up in this rusty trunk collecting dust with everything else."

He breaks his eyes away from the photographs just long enough to look me in the eye, making the tears welling up in his own unbearably more noticeable, and stuttering out, "T-thank you. You have no idea. Thank you."

"Happy Birthday, Harry Potter."

Potter doesn't respond – he simply smiles down at the pictures in his hands, flipping through them one after the other. I don't want to interrupt him, so I decide to look through the old books that I kept in the trunk. There are a lot of books about potion-making in here, a few other school books, and some story books. There is even a journal in here that I can't bring myself to read. Merlin only knows what kind of stuff Snape would write about in that thing. The idea of reading all about his pitiful unrequited love for Potter's mother makes me a bit sick to my stomach. The idea of Snape being in love with anyone is just too bizarre for me to even comprehend.

I avoid the journal and look through the other books. All of the books have writing in them. The potions books have notes about how the instructions are wrong and what's the correct way to brew that particular potion. The story books have random thoughts and opinions scribbled in the margins. The other school books have notes about creative and unexpected ways to learn the different spells that are listed. Apparently he was a prolific note-taker. He wrote all of his thoughts in the margins of books. Why did he even bother with a journal? He might as well have written his own book along the margins of fifty other books he owned.

Perhaps I can't blame him though, right? Sometimes there are just so many thoughts invading your mind at once that you feel like your brain could explode. Maybe it's helpful to write some of them down to help ease your mind. Although the problem with writing down your over-abundance of thoughts is: Where the hell would you start? Ever since I learned how to read I would read every book I could get my hands on, but it never occurred to me that those books I fell in love with came from someone who had an over-abundance of thoughts crammed inside their brain just like I do. The only difference is, they were able to take those thoughts and translate them into a story. For the rest of us who can't do such a thing, we need to find other methods of clearing our minds from the insanity.

As I put the books back into the trunk, I wonder what type of story I could create if I vented all my thoughts and emotions through made-up characters on a piece of paper. I guess we'll never know. Potter shoves the letters and photographs back into the large envelope and holds it tightly to his chest. It's a good thing I'm allowing him to keep those because it's doubtful I'd be able to pry them from his grip otherwise.

"Can we get out of this dirty old attic now?" I groan, looking around in disgust at the large spider webs. I shudder. "I really don't want to be up here when the owner of that masterpiece comes home."

Potter grimaces at the web as well. "Let's get out of here."

I laugh at the both of us. I don't care how tough and cool you think you are – spiders are creepy as hell. We all avoid them as much as we possibly can. We quickly tumble out of the attic and go to sit down in the sitting room. Cat is lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, pushing a ball back and forth with Granger's freakish feline. She greets us both with a wide grin as we enter the room.

"Hey!" Cat sings. "Happy Birthday, Harry! That was such a great party you had yesterday! I'm so glad that you invited me to come along!"

"Thanks, Cat," Potter says, still gazing down at the envelope in his hands. "I'm glad that you had fun. I hope I'm going to see you again after tomorrow."

"Oh, don't remind me!" She buries her face in her hands for a moment dramatically. "I can't believe that we're all going home tomorrow. Well, almost all of us. It's been so much fun having everyone stay here like this. It's been like one giant slumber party! You're so lucky that you get to stay here, Harry!"

"Oh, yeah, I'm _so lucky_," Potter says sarcastically, shoving me out of his way as he walks around the sofa to sit on the floor with Cat. He scratches Crookshanks behind the ears before looking back at me over his shoulder. I know that he was just messing with me, so I just shake it off and sit on the sofa, hitting him over the back of the head as I sit down. He simply laughs in response, swatting my hand away from him and returning his attention to Cat.

"I really hope that we get to see each other again, too," Cat tells him, finally replying to his earlier comment. "It's quite entertaining being around all of you. I would miss you all. Especially Hermione! I love Hermione. Besides, Harry, it's been really nice having you around. My other friends are fantastic, but they don't really understand my situation, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, I know what you mean." Potter flips the envelope over in his hands a few times.

"Don't you think you two are overreacting a bit?" I ask cynically. "Just because you are all going back to your real homes now doesn't mean you're moving to another country or something. It's not like we'll never have the opportunity to see each other again."

"That's not the point, Draco," Cat argues. "Of course we'll be seeing each other again. But it's still different from living in the same house and being able to see each other every single day."

"Aren't you sick of seeing us every single day? I know I am."

"_Thanks_," Potter grumbles over his shoulder.

"You don't get it," Cat sighs.

"What don't I get?" I shrug my shoulders. I know that Cat can be very excitable and that this kind of thing must be important to her, but I don't see what the big deal is. So what if Blaise moves out? I saw him every day before and I'll continue to see him every day afterward. Potter isn't going anywhere so I'm stuck with him for who knows how much longer. Granger and I will still see each other every day. The Weasleys will be gone and I never wanted to see them every day in the first place, so there's no hard feelings there.

"Even though we can occasionally see each other if we want, things are still going to change. This is probably the last time that we'll ever all be together like this."


	20. Homecoming

**Chapter Twenty: Homecoming**

Hermione Granger

Ginny and I continue to pull our clothes out of the closet and throw them onto our beds next to our open suitcases. Breakfast this morning was much different than all the others we've had here. Everyone was very quiet, trying not to acknowledge the fact that it was the last breakfast we would all be spending together. I can't help but find the situation amusing. Only a couple months ago we were grudgingly moving in here, sitting uncomfortably around the dining room table, and fighting with Draco. We couldn't wait to go home. Now we are disappointed to be going home and going back to our separate lives.

After emptying the closet, I move over to my bed and start folding up all of my clothes and placing them neatly in my suitcase. I smile as I fold up the black dress I was wearing when Draco and I kissed me for the first time. I can hear Ginny zipping up her suitcases behind me. I rush to finish shoving the rest of my belongings into my suitcases. I pack up Crookshanks's bed, bowls, and toys. Ginny and I struggle for a few moments to lure him into his carrier. We look around the room that suddenly looks empty and lifeless without all of our stuff scattered all over it.

"So, it finally looks like we're really leaving," I say, coming to grips with that reality.

"The fully packed luggage and empty room certainly gives that illusion," Ginny mutters, dragging her heavy luggage off of her bed and onto the floor. "I know you're bummed to be leaving your new boyfriend, but I am definitely relieved to finally be going home."

Ginny grabs her suitcases and wheels them out of the room. I stare at my two suitcases and the cat carrier. I'm not exactly sure how I am supposed to roll both suitcases downstairs while supporting Crookshanks in his carrier at the same time. I'm going to have to make two trips I suppose. But I don't want to leave Crookshanks alone. He really hates being in his carrier. As I struggle to pull my luggage off the bed, Draco walks into the room and sneaks up behind me.

"Whoa, Ace, let me get that," Draco offers, reaching for both suitcases and picking them up effortlessly. I pick up Crookshanks in his carrier and follow Draco downstairs to put my luggage by the front door with everyone else's. I keep Crookshanks with me as we go back upstairs to the sitting room where everyone is waiting. Narcissa is sitting on her husband's lap in the chair next to the fireplace. Harry, Ron, and Ginny are gathered on the sofa. I place the carrier on the floor where Cat is laying so that she can play with Crookshanks. Draco sits on the arm of the sofa and I stand there, leaning against him, and looking around the room at the group. This is the last time we'll all be together.

"Are you all packed and ready to go?" Narcissa asks me.

"Everything's set," I say sadly.

"I'm really glad that you all got a chance to stay here with us," Narcissa addresses the entire group. She genuinely looks disappointed that we are all, or at least most of us, are leaving. "I believe that you've all made such excellent and I hope that you believe that as well. If any of you ever feel like you need to talk you can always come back and see me."

"Ron and I should really get going," Ginny says after a long moment of silence. "We promised our parents that we would be home to have lunch with the entire family."

Ron and Ginny stand up and say their goodbyes to everyone, more Ginny than Ron who still isn't particularly supportive. They leave quietly and it fortifies the reality for everyone left. We all sit in silence awkwardly. None of us were expecting that the end would be like this. Cat sits up, a somber expression on her face.

"I should probably go, too," she tells us. "My aunt has this whole welcome home celebration planned. Apparently she's been working really hard on it for weeks."

"Well, I'm glad you got the chance to join us," Narcissa says, standing up to give Cat a hug. Cat gives a long hug to both me and Draco, telling me to make sure that I take good care of Crookshanks. Draco and Cat assure each other that they will see each other on a regular basis. I had forgotten until now that they had – how would I phrase it? – _bonded_ quite intimately before he and I had gotten together. I'm surprised that I'm not more bothered by that or jealous of her. Draco chose me though, so there is no reason to worry. Cat moves to say goodbye to Harry.

"Why don't I help you with your luggage and take you home?" Harry offers her. She smiles brightly, nodding shyly.

"That would be very nice of you, thanks," Cat accepts his offer excitedly. Harry gives me a quick hug goodbye and tells Lucius and Narcissa that he would be back soon. I can see on Narcissa's face that she is very pleased that Harry is staying here. I think it's been really good for her to have all of us around. I know from experiences how keeping busy and feeling like you're helping others can help ease the memories of everything that's happened.

Harry follows Cat out of the sitting room to take her home. After Draco explains to his mother that I will be coming over here often now that we're together so I huge goodbye really isn't necessary, Lucius and Narcissa go downstairs. I pick up Crookshanks in his carrier and follow Draco downstairs. He grabs my luggage and holds the front door open for me. Despite the knowledge that I will be coming back here and also that my life and relationship with Draco will continue beyond this point, I still can't help but feel like a chapter in my life is ending. It's a mixture of emotions. I'm sad to see this story end, but I'm excited for whatever new adventure is next.

Draco takes me home and we're standing outside on the front steps. We both stand there staring at the front door. Draco can't even hide how uncomfortable he feels. I know that the idea of being around any Muggles would probably be very strange for him, but my parents specifically must be a whole new spectrum of strange. However, it's really important to me that my parents meet him.

"Well, I suppose we should go inside then," I say awkwardly after a long stretch of silence.

"W-what?" he stammers. "Inside? You mean, where your parents are?"

"Of course where my parents are. This is their house afterall."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Draco, come on, I really want you to meet my parents. And more importantly I want them to meet you."

"Ace, this is a really bad idea. When it comes to parents I'm much better as a surprise."

"Well, neither of them has a birthday coming up anytime soon, so I'm afraid the surprise party isn't a workable plan." I beg him with my eyes to come inside with me. He makes a funny face while staring at the door. I'm sure that he's imagining all of the different ways that this situation could go horribly wrong. I'm trying to focus solely on the possibility that it will go well. "Oh, come on, you'll be fine. Just be yourself and be nice."

"Those are two completely conflicting pieces of information there, Ace. I mean, which one do you want me to be?"

"Stop it, Draco. You can be yourself and still be nice. I've seen you do it. Don't try to pull that act with me. Just remember – don't call me Granger in front of my parents. I doubt they would understand."

His eyes widen slightly as if refraining from using my surname is far too difficult a task for him to undertake. He takes a deep breath and nods. I excitedly shift the cat carrier onto my hip so that I can open the door. I step inside and have to turn back to make sure that he actually follows me inside. Half of me expected him to slide my luggage into the house and then escape while my back was turned. To my relief, he's still standing there looking horrified. I wonder if it is this stressful for any man to meet his girlfriend's parents or if it is specific to our situation?

"Mum!? Dad!?" I call into the quiet house, announcing my presence. "I'm home!"

"Hermione!?" my mum's voice calls back, the pure joy in her tone floating like musical notes through the warm air. I hear Draco close the front door behind me and place my luggage to the side against the wall. Within seconds my parents coming rushing down the stairs and around the corner to greet me. "Oh! We are so happy you're home! We weren't expecting you so early!"

"We see you have managed to bring back more things than you left here with," Dad points out, gesturing behind me toward Draco. I quickly bend down and let Crookshanks out of his carrier. He takes off and disappears, happy to enjoy his own home once again. I stand up and pull Draco forward. He feels like a statue in my hands. I rub his arm gently in an attempt to get him to relax.

"Mum, Dad, this is Draco," I tell them slowly, hoping they will understand without the need for me to give him any specific label. They look from him to me and then at our linking arms before raising their eyebrows. Finally smiles break across their faces.

"Draco Malfoy, sir," Draco more properly introduces himself, boldly holding out his hand to my father, who takes it proudly in a firm shake.

"Malfoy?" Dad repeats. "That name sounds familiar. Have we heard that somewhere before?"

"Merlin, I hope not," Draco mutters dismally under his breath.

"Oh, I don't know," I say quickly, trying to avoid any awkward reminiscing of unpleasant memories. "I may have mentioned him once before over the years. We did go to Hogwarts together."

"Right, of course," Mum exclaims. "It was his family you were staying with all this time, wasn't it dear?"

"Yes, that's right. His mother is quite a brilliant woman."

Draco suddenly beams, his body language seemingly much more relaxed. I smiles as my proudly at my declaration of fondness for his mother. It makes me so happy to see how much love and respect he has for her. It makes him seem more human. Despite many years of him acting as if he were so heartless, his relationship with his mother dispels all such thoughts. Even though I am pleased by his reaction, I did mean what I said. I do find Narcissa to be a rather intelligent and intriguing woman. She's very strong and independent and powerful – she knows how to take care of herself and her family.

"Is that so?" Mum says cheerfully. "Well, I would love to meet her!"

"I'm sure she would love that, too," Draco says kindly, and it seems that his polite response may actually be genuine. It would mean so much to me if my mum and Narcissa got along. "Perhaps a nice dinner is in order."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Mum seems to get lost for a moment, ranting about the plans she's already making for this dinner. She always runs through a million different meal choices every time there is some sort of occasion to be had where there is food involved. There are so many different choices that she enjoys cooking that she has trouble making a final decision until that last minute. She gets very excited about having guests over.

I admit that I'm surprised Draco was the one who suggested having a dinner. One minute he doesn't even want to come inside and he's as stiff as a board. The next minute he's perfectly relaxed and planning family dinners. He is always a surprise. Just when I think I know what he's going to do, he turns out to be completely different than I could have expected. Although, I can't be surprised that he would take the opportunity to show off his mother, especially to other parents. I'm certainly that he believes his mother his more fun than anyone else's mother, so he must prove that to everyone so he can have all the bragging rights.

"Well, what are we all doing standing at the door," Dad says. "Let's all come in and sit down in the living room."

"Oh, I'll make some tea!" Mum suggests, rushing into the kitchen.

"We'll be right there," I say loudly so they can both hear me. "We're going to drag these suitcases upstairs, that way I won't have to do it later."

Draco immediately reaches for my luggage and I grab the now empty cat carrier. He follows my lead up the staircase to my room. Part of me feels a little bit odd having him in my bedroom at my parents' house, especially considering how our relationship carried on in _his_ bedroom. Other than the time I spent away at Hogwarts, I have been living in this bedroom since I was a little girl. I've never once brought a boy up here. I've never even let Harry or Ron in my room before. Draco pulls the suitcases into the room and leans them against the wall just inside the door. He then takes his time looking around the room at everything.

"So this is your room," he simply says. I can only imagine what he's thinking. There is a lot of light blue and purple everywhere. A lot of the things around the room have flowers on them. It's not overly girly, but it's girly enough that he probably is amused by it all. He finally smiles. "I don't think I've ever seen so many books in my life outside of an actual library."

"Oh, that's not true," I scoff. "You have just as many books in your own room. Don't even start teasing me. Besides, you should be glad that my collection is of books and not something completely useless and impractical."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. What are random things that people collect? Stamps? Dolls? Stuffed animals? They have no purpose. They just sit there and take up space. At least my books are educational as well as enjoyable."

"So would this be a bad time to tell you that I have a stamp collection?" he jokes. I roll my eyes at him, but he simply laughs at himself. I look around my room happily. It's good to be back. Everything is so familiar and comfortable. I wonder what it's going to be like to finally leave this place for good. I realize that if we stay up here for too long my parents will probably get suspicious and come up here looking for us.

"We should probably get back downstairs," I tell Draco, making my way toward the door. He makes no motion to leave whatsoever. "If we don't go back down there my parents will send up a search party."

"Oh, well, if there's a search party at risk," he mocks sarcastically, putting his hands up in surrendering and turning toward the door. Before he can leave I grab his arm and stop him.

"Before we go back down, I just wanted to say that I'm really glad that you came inside with me. I know that you were nervous about meeting my parents, but it means so much to me that you're being so nice."

"Well, they are your parents, I suppose I have to make them like me, don't I?"

"Yes, you do. I just still wanted to tell you myself how happy I am and how much it means to me what you're doing for me today. I'm sure you're only doing it so that you don't upset them and make things extremely difficult for us, but it still means a lot."

"That's not the only reason."

"What's the other reason?"

"I'm doing it because I love you."


End file.
